The Unmaking of Reality (Silent Hearts)
by ImaginaryInk
Summary: Both good and evil are seen through hateful eyes, felt from bleeding hearts, and embraced by scorned souls. We are all children of sin living in a wretched, broken world led by demons, be it our own or others'. But I believe that I hold the power to change all of that. Hope is all I have. BV/BK/KCC :WARNING: Graphic in all aspects.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: YeaH! Not mine. Wish it was.**

**As promised, it shall be delivered. ****Formerly known as 'Silent Hearts'.**

**This story is currently going on a heavy editing process. The plot is the same, only minor changes in scenes and chapters. I've edited spellings and grammars, though please ignore the smallest of mistakes. I'm sure there are some that I've missed.**

**Note: Two things y'all should keep in mind!**

**1. Kakarot (yes, the Goku we all love) is not the Goku from the canon version. His behaviours, personality, and actions are all based on a pure saiyan's characteristics, making him just like any other saiyan. So do not judge him or the writer. (Remember, he's never had that bump on his head)**

**2. First person POV is for Bulma and/or Vegeta scenes only (when no one else is present except when they're alone on their own, or alone together). The rest of the story is pretty much in third person.**

**Now, on with the fic!**

**| ImaginaryInk |**

* * *

**Her POV**

Grenades, revolvers, ki-binders, ki-ammunitions, and a taser were securely attached to my hip belt. In my hand I hold a special ki-structured M249 light machine gun, steadied and ready to fire away. I lean crouched on the wall at the top of the stairway and look downstairs through the corner of my eye for any sort of unusual movements. I am in my home, or whatever that is left of it. The only light source I have... well, there is no light source. Not anymore. There is only darkness – they destroyed the buildings, street lamps... even the moon. I don't know why.

I held my breath as I listen intently for any mistakes the intruders would make, then, once I've determined their whereabouts, I'll make my move. I will shoot upon sight and I will not stop once I start. These motherfuckers just don't know who they are dealing with.

They arrived two days ago. When I mentioned they I meant _'they'_, the devils and demons in mortal form. They killed my people without mercy, without a tinge of compassion; and they are still searching, still killing. Men, women, children, the elders, all were slaughtered as if they were nothing but a scrap of dust under their feet.

They are looking for something, or someone. No one knew what or who, and they will not stop until it's in their possession. I hear some of them took the females by force and raped them only to discard their lifeless bodies from where they stood. These... demons, they possess a very powerful weapon – themselves. Yes, they possess power. Energy so strong that they were all able to summon the attacks from within their bodies, it was terrifying and it was horrible because when you come face to face with it, you know there will be no hope left for you.

In all my life I have never seen so many dead bodies in one place. Even funerals were not as solemn as this and at least they were properly buried there. But these bodies... they lie immobile and lifeless on the ground and at every corner of the earth. There were so many of them lying dead in my house, on my lawn. And I KNEW them!

I knew them...

Now, the once huge mansion that I lived in is nothing but a mass of ruins. It hurts my heart every time I seek refuge in my own home after another vicious onslaught with them. And each evening always ends with a huge majority of the humans dead.

'_If we keep on fighting, we will all die, but if we don't, what will become of our race?'_

A single hot tear rolls down my cheek as my father's final words played in my mind like a broken record. That was before he left me to fend for myself, alone in this wretched place the world has become. I remember his bloodied hand squeezing mine for the last time as I watched the life seep away from his eyes. I close my eyes, pushing out the unshed tears and shake the images away. I clench my jaw tight as I tried to suppress another cry. They killed my mother and my father, and they will pay – they will _all_ pay.

I regain my composure and try to focus on the intruders below. I know they are here roaming endlessly trying to find human survivors, and I don't know what or who it is that they seek, but they will never find it. Inch by inch, I stand on my feet though still leaning by the wall. Any minute now and they will be at the bottom of the stairs. And when they're here, I'll start to shoot.

I am alone, all my comrades and accomplices are dead. It is nothing unusual to me now and it will not affect me, at least not anymore. I've seen more dead people than I'd like to last me a lifetime. It doesn't matter anymore.

I close my eyes as I centre in on their movements below. The muffled sounds of careful steps were hard to detect. These aliens are smart, clever, and cunning in their fighting skills. Truth be told, I have never seen such battle savvy soldiers before. They will not give an opening to their enemy no matter how easily swayed our attacks are. And they will stop at nothing.

'Thump.'

My eyes fly open to the sound of a miscalculated footstep. I turn my head to the side and take in a deep, silent, shaky breath. Though I don't know how many aliens I will take on tonight but this is it. For I am now alone fighting this fight on my own, this night will determine my fate. There will be bloodshed again and there will be no turning back.

I'd either get to die and reconcile with all whom I love, or live to continue surviving this horrid nightmare called reality.

I press my lips into a thin line, and wait for the intruder to halt at the bottom of the staircase. I ready myself for another battle, take in a deep, solid breath, and muster my courage for the night. And now, to get their attention.

"Hey!"

* * *

**His POV**

"Hey!"

I whip my head towards the voice. It came from the ceiling, right above me. I narrow my eyes into slits as running footsteps were immediately heard, starting from the top of the stairs, dashing across a plain and stopping at a nearby corner – all that without a skip in its footsteps or even a stumble. Instantly, I deduce that the conniving native had strategised a direct line of sight, without obstacles between its weapon and me. And I applaud; clever creature, but not clever enough. The native had expected me to climb the stairs and enter the clearing, perhaps hoping for an easy aim.

'_Devious humans – they think they are so smart'_.

I sneer, a scowl forms on my face and I faze from the spot I stood and out the side window. In a flash, I take into the air and soar towards the room where I knew the human was waiting.

I land silently on the balcony tiles, and then I saw the native... there it is.

From the contours of its body, I could tell it was a human female. She is crouching in the middle of the room with her back to me. Obviously, she is waiting for her enemy to enter from the door – how predictable. I smirk at the stupid human as she grips her weapon tightly, seemingly on alert. Very quietly, I move to stand directly behind her. Then I begin to study the gun in her hand, those little collateral firearms fixed on her hip, and of course, her rare form.

I click on my scouter and let it calculate her power level. I scoff inwardly as it came as no surprise that she is just another weakling. Still, I cock my head to the side as I scrutinise her hair and skin. They pull me in deeper with its bright blue shade, its texture so silky and soft from the looks of it and they made me want to sift my hands through those locks. And her skin, even in the dark I could see that it is fair and creamy, and maybe if I touch it I am... afraid... that I might melt along with it.

Then, anger flows through me.

An earthling has me mesmerised with her physical form? Preposterous!

I clench my fists and sneer inwardly at that thought.

She still hadn't realised that I am standing silently behind her with my arms crossed. I watch her every move as I listen to her every breath. She must be wondering where her '_intruder'_ had disappeared to when no one appeared at the door because she started to move. Inching up on her combat boots, she drops her weapon the side and let it sling over her torso. I could practically see the gears working in her little human head as she schemes up an alternative plan.

Then, her head shot up in alert, and she held her breath. So did I.

She curls her fingers slowly, carefully, and cleverly around her weapon. Then, she lowers herself into a defensive stance. I take a silent step back, becoming highly amused with her next course of action even thought I could already tell. It was like I knew her – _how predictable_. So I _braced_ myself and watch her, completely amused. With a simple twist of her ankle, she spins around and shoves her weapon to my face at point-blank.

Even the time stopped ticking.

I glare at her from under my brow, a scowl ever so present on my face and my arms still crossed over my chest. My breathing stopped and my movements ceased.

So was hers.

We stayed like this for a brief moment, killing the other with our intense glares. The only movement prior to this was her eyes widening up to a notch when she first saw me. And I inwardly smirk at her carelessness. I can tell that she is strong, by weak human female standards that is. I cock my head to the side and look at her nonchalantly, seemingly uninterested and unaffected by her threat literally pointing my way. She tips her head slowly to the side and gives me an even glare – which I will have to applaud her once more for her courage. No enemy would look me in the eye the way she is doing right now.

So much _fire_ contained in one small, little frame.

"What are you going to do with that thing, human?" I question casually, never averting my glare, with a steady calmness in my voice that always makes my enemies cower.

"I am going to shoot your brains out with it," she hisses after a long, careful pause as she looks at me as if I was joking.

I lower my arms to the side and clench my fists. I straighten my back and stare her down like the evil prince that I am. This female is something fierce and if she is not willing to back down and cower before my feet, I shall make her. I quietly study her some more, and it dawned on me that she held a certain aura that screams hope. I guess I knew what that hope is for. It was always the same – hope for her life, her people, and her world. Well, it's just too bad. I take a menacing step forward, forcing her to take one fearful step backward.

"Not another step closer!"

I stop and blinked. This creature before me is so unlike the others. She has wit, and guts, and spunk. Then, I smirk. This one is begging to be played with.

"Do you not fear me?"

"I am not afraid of you!"

"Au contraire, as you humans put it, because I can smell your fear rolling off your skin from here," and I approach her.

"S-stop or I will shoot!" her voice starts to waver, and I leered.

"Go on, shoot me. _I am not going anywhere_..." I goad and lowered my chin as I glare her down from under my brow, my voice projecting a wicked tone. It always works.

She glares at me with passionate hatred written in her eyes. Well, I guess I couldn't blame her for that. If my life, my people, and my world were in ruins and I come to face the people responsible for it, I'd hate them with everything I have, and I will kill them all. I figured it wouldn't be any different with this little human before me. No, no difference at all.

Before she could even see it coming, I swipe my hand over her weapon and grip on it in a flash. Her eyes widen and panic envelopes her. With a smirk and a glint of amusement in my eyes, I bend the pitiful metal with a simple twist of my wrist. The metal screeches loudly and its bullets came popping out from the insides, one by one as they drop to the floor in a useless pile. She gapes at me with eyes wide as saucers as she stares between her ruined weapon and me in complete shock.

"Wha... what are you people?"

I yank the pathetic object from her loosen grip and throws it to the side. I descend upon her and grab her arm, twisting it far behind her back. She let out a yelp and I pull her flush to my body. I find myself enjoying the feel of her womanly curves against my hard, rock body. It didn't matter that she was quivering with fear. She pants in terror and her warm breath washes over my cool, dead skin and I welcome it. I stare into her eyes and for the first time, it astounded me, for I have never seen a creature with eyes like hers.

It was so blue, like the sky, and so deep, like the ocean.

I stare into her eyes a little longer, completely marvelled by them before settling my gaze on her collarbone. Her breathing is hard and uneven; heaving the bountiful mounds of flesh and making them so utterly inviting. At this, my throat became dry coupled with a familiar stir in my groin. I trace my gaze to the side of her neck and stop there, admiring the pumping of her artery and smoothness of her skin – unmarred and unscarred.

A sudden lusty clash of blood and desire wave through me and the urge to throw this female down on the floor and pinned beneath me grows. I want to devour her entire existence.

"W-what are you doing?" she squeaks meekly.

Her sudden lack of fire brings me out of my muse and I look back at her. An evil smirk graces my lips and I walk forward, pushing her back until her head hits the wall, and then her back. Now, I have her trapped in my arms. I can hear her choking a sob and swallowing hard as her misty eyes betray her bravado. Oh yes, the little human is frightened.

"Because you've been somewhat compliant, let's try this again before I leave to your demise,"  
I tease her because it's what I do to brave victims much like her, "Are you not frightened of me?" I ask, this time with a playful, malicious glint in my eyes.

She stares at me for a few seconds, before that dying flickering flame fuelled itself back to life at my words and her resolve found its way back into her fiery soul, "I will never be afraid of you, you bastard," she hisses and sneers, her stubbornness is obvious.

"Tsk. Wrong answer," I feign a pout, "I'd hate to mar that delicate skin of yours. You are rather... exotic," and run a gloved finger over her main artery as I stare at it fixatedly.

Then I spin her around and lock her in place against the wall, causing her to heave out a lungful of air. She struggles against me as I pin both her hands above her head with one hand while the other slide down her sides and stop at her inner thighs. She continues to squirm wildly and I yearn to just tear off her offending attire and fuck her senseless right here.

"No," she whispers harshly as she thrashes around, although she knows it'd be futile.

I spin her around again, this time facing me. Somehow, it didn't surprise me at all to see her eyes water, even though she refuses to cry. Given any female a similar position, bound and helpless, they would cry, but not her. Stubborn bitch. Just as I thought, she has spunk and guts. But her bravery would only amount to so much before I have her completely broken and submitted to me.

I press against her fragile frame, my hand still painfully pinning down her wrists and this time, I uncoil my tail to curl around her thigh. Again, I trap her body completely against mine, leaving her no space to squirm. She whimpers lightly, though her boldness is still pretty much present from the murderous glare she sends me. I pull an evil grin as I trace my free hand under her tank top, happily feeling her flat stomach before moving upwards to the underside of her right breast. She gasps as I flick my thumb over her nipple.

"Unhand me or you will regret it," she hisses.

Such fire, such inner strength. The animalistic side of me suddenly came to life; the need to subdue, to dominate, and to conquer grow their ugly heads and I'm afraid I won't be able to stop them.

"In case you didn't know, human, I am the most feared being in the entire universe and yooouuu, you're nothing but a weak earthling with a power level of five, maybe even lower," I grin at her, pausing midsentence for emphasis, "And this situation only proves it to be indubitably true. So what made you think that I will _regret_ the things I am about to do to you knowing that you can never hurt me at all?"

I whisper harshly in her face and I can sense her back stiffens at the depth of my words. I crush her further with my weight, holding her in place as my hand lowers to her belt buckle. Her eyes widen with recognition. She knows what I am about to do. But strangely, she remains calm.

"Go on, just try it. _I am not going anywhere_..." she snarls and my ministrations abruptly cease. Did the bitch just spew my very own words back at me? _Who the fuck does she think she is?!_

Nonetheless, it was a challenge. And I never back down from one.

No one dares challenge me and expect to win or even get out of it alive. Not before, not now, and not ever. This human clearly has a death wish but I will not fulfil her wishes, not yet. I stare at her for the longest time with a deep scowl on my face, contemplating the things that I'm about to do to her.

She needs to be taught a lesson. And I smirk.

Without warning, I yank the front of her belt buckle with little effort, easily breaking it. Then I tear away the button of her pants and grab a fistful of the waistband, jerking it down till her zip came undone and the seams completely torn. I pry her legs apart with my knee, using my tail to keep her nice and wide, and very roughly, shove a hand inside her pants and cup her folds. She gasps loudly as I press onto her nub and then slide my fingers lower to penetrate her depths.

She trembles beneath me, but she doesn't dare make a sound. However, she squirms and writhes violently as I torture her inner walls without mercy. She thought she could throw me off by thrashing. But my hold on her tightens the moment I slip another finger into her moist slit. She was wet, and is now getting wetter. I grin wickedly because it was all just too easy.

She may be brave but even the bravest will eventually fall and cower before me. They all do, despite their strong resolves and pathetic will. And where this little woman is concerned, I will break the fortress which she holds so strongly, and when I do, she _will_ submit to me. Just like the rest.

Further proving my own point, though she may be unwilling, her body is showing otherwise.

Her juices flow down my palms. She is wetter than I thought and I grin at what an enticing fact this is. I can see the stubbornness etched on her face as she bit her lip in trying to suppress the moan which is no doubt lodged in her throat. She likes it. She doesn't want it, but she likes it. And I can tell that from the contractions of her walls as they compress tightly against my fingers.

"Let it go," I whisper to her, our noses centimetres apart.

"No!" she hisses brokenly, her breathing was quick and irregular.

As her lips move to spew that one syllable, I gaze hotly and excitedly at it. Her lips are so full with a rich shade of coral pink, and so soft to the touch. I lean down to capture her lips in a rough kiss and she screams into my mouth. I literally devour her pouty cushions like the animal I have turned into. I lick, bite, and suck on her lips till they bled. She screams in pain on top of the ecstasy my fingers produced, and I enjoy every second of her agonising cry mixed with the crimson fluid melting deliciously on my tongue.

Based on the sporadic contractions of her inner walls, I know that her release is nearing and I pull my head back just in time to see her face. First there was flaming hot anger, now that same anger is slowing shifting into heated lust. Any second now and she will escalate higher, finally meeting the peak of ecstasy, and then she will flow like a rapid river into my hands.

But I retract from her folds.

I bring my hand close to me, tipping my head to the side while I study the slick juices glossed over my gloved fingers. I pry them apart, mesmerised by the threads of her sweet extract webbing in the spaces between my digits. Amidst my fascination, I barely heard her whimper. But she did, be it out of frustration or relief in the lost of contact, I don't really care. I turn to her to give her my full attention.

Her body trembles tiredly from the aftermath of a sexual onslaught, and though her sapphire orbs were still misty with unshed tears, I did not miss the undying hate hidden beneath those oceanic eyes. In ungodly silence, she watches me with untold intense as I slowly draw my tongue out to lick her blood off my lips. I swirl her crimson juices with my saliva, mixing them together and forming some sort of twisted elixir to excite myself.

It was sweet, delicious, and sinfully desirable.

I have tasted the blood of my victims many, many times, and they never tasted quite like hers. I feel myself foolishly drawn to her in a way never before. It is intoxicating. Her heaving chest, her teary eyes, and her flushed cheeks. They are intoxicating. And they make my blood simmer with excitement and my body quiver with blind lust. _She_ is intoxicating.

A fleeting thought enters my mind as suspicions arouse. She is human, a normal but weak human female with a pitiful power level. She could never control me like this; unless... her weakness is compensated with some sort of human telekinetic or mind powers where she can manipulate my thoughts and feelings.

Upon this startling, yet unconfirmed revelation, I become angry again. She is a conniving one. This bitch thinks she can manipulate the mighty saiyan prince with her wily charms!

I grab her cheeks and yank her face close to mine, "You think you're so clever, little human. Well I can see through you like the fragile glass you are, and I intend to _break and shatter_ you into little pieces," I hiss and scowl at her.

Then I release her face and without warning, grab the waistband of her pants. With one swift pull downwards, I undress her bottom half, leaving her pants bunched at her knees. I also release her wrists, freeing both my hands to have my way with her as I please. I lift the hem of her top and bunch them over her breasts, pausing for a second to admire her well-rounded orbs. My hands trace over them in an agonisingly slow scrutiny as my fingers sampled the softness of her breasts. I push them together, flicking my thumbs over her pink nipples which look as sweet as they'd probably taste. So I lean down and devour each luscious nipple like a hungry savage beast.

She slaps her free hands on my arms, shoulders, head, and face in a pitiful attempt to push me away. Her shrieks of protest echo in the room but not one of them was heard. My fingers encircle her wrists again, this time pinning both her hands behind her back. Not too bad a thing as her back arches forward, pushing her soft mounds further into my face. I let her go again, only this time I push her down face first on the floor. I held her waist and pull her hip closer to mine. Though still clothed, I grind my hardened arousal at her exposed heat.

I bunch her top over her neck and sink my canines into the skin just above her shoulder blade. I break her skin with the sharp ends of my fangs and relish in the taste of her blood once more. Then I brutally drag my teeth down along her centre spine creating a stream of blood and successfully eliciting a suppressed near-animalistic groan from her.

Something in me snaps and momentarily freezes me in place. The sight of her bright, red blood flowing down her pale, porcelain skin mesmerises me so; it feels like I have seeped into a deep trance. Then she chuckles.

* * *

**Her POV**

I chuckle deeply at the face of danger. Yes, even I could hardly believe that it was coming from me. Perhaps I have come to accept that I am already at the end of my line. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe if I feel pain, even just a little bit more, I will finally see the end of the tunnel where my parents are waiting for me.

So, this is it.

I will push his hands to put me out of my misery.

I am ready.

"You're a coward!" I taunt him. As I have expected, as soon as the words left my mouth, he froze. In utter surprise, shock, or anger, I don't care.

Those several seconds were a momentary relief as the hurting stopped. But before my body and nerves could settle down, he grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks me up very roughly. He slides his fingers to my neck to hold me firmly flushed to his chest. I choke as I fought to breathe.

"You have a pretty big mouth for someone who's clearly at a disadvantage!" he hisses into my ear and tightens his hold around my throat.

That's right, a little more. Tighter. You've got it, asshole. Just... wring... a little tigh-

"Well, I have a better use for your wretched mouth..."

He shoves me off of him as if I burned him and sends me tumbling hard on the floor. I gasp for air, choking as my lungs burn with every breath that I take.

Though I'm looking down and away from him, I could hear him getting up and dusting himself off. My breathing hitches and I wheeze, causing an onslaught of continuous hacking. My eyes are now teary and stinging, and in spite of the pain, I drag myself across the hardwood flooring with every attempt to get away.

He plants his heavy foot on my right calve, rooting me to the spot. I turn on my side and glare at him with teary eyes. My hair was dishevelled, my breathing rapid, and my heart pounding, but I dare not whimper.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asks casually as he puts pressure onto my leg, drawing an agonising groan from my lips. He lets go a little, reeling in my pain as something swishes laxly in the darkness behind him.

Although my body quiver, my eyes settle on the coiling-and-uncoiling silhouette before they widen in realisation that it was his tail. He brings it to the front, gliding its tip almost sensually along the leg he's had pinned under his foot till it reaches my upper thigh.

I glare at it alarmingly as I swat that vicious appendage away, but it didn't even budge. It traces higher, past my navel, my diaphragm, the valley of my breasts, and alas, it coils around my neck.

It tightens and I could feel its many bristles prick my skin as he hoists me up roughly to my feet. I scratch at his tail, crush it as hard as I could in my palms, pull at its fur... yet he felt nothing.

He flashes me a toothy grin as I struggle for air and another sickening realisation dawns on me; I am amusing him and he is thoroughly enjoying himself. Sick bastard!

Slowly, he brings me close to an inch from his face and replaces his tail with his fingers. He didn't squeeze my neck this time, but it was a firm hold, allowing just enough precious air for me to inhale. I feel his breath on my face while his scent wafts against my body. He reeks of sweat, blood... and death.

If only looks could kill, I swear I would have already murdered him ten times by now and still counting.

"I bet you're a screamer," he breathes, licking my blood off the corner of his lip. Then he grins lecherously at me, and even in the darkness, his eyes shine brightly with malice and lust.

"The only screams you'll hear coming from me will be how I'll be cursing your entire lineage for creating a hideous monstrosity such as you!"

"Why, thank you for being so observant. I take pride in my atrocities. However, I'd have to say I'm not as hideous as you portray me to be."

"Wha-"

"In fact, you humans are such filthy, revolting creatures," he sneers in disgust, his eyes clouding at a possibly recent memory playing in his mind, "... they were trembling like bitches and barfing as I so kindly illustrated how I would slaughter them. Some even wetted and shat themselves before I could even finish my speech," he shakes his head and chuckles deeply, heavily amused even, as I stare at him dumbfounded and in horror for the millionth time.

"I wonder..." he pauses, then lets his eyes linger on mine with a small smirk on his face before speaking in the quietest, gentlest, most curious voice I've ever heard, "... what would _you_ do in the face of death?"

My stomach tightens and twists into a knot, and I conclude – he is an unadulterated psychopath.

He releases me and I scramble to my feet, staggering backwards and away from him. I adjust my top and pull up my pants, ignoring the broken waistband. He folds his arm as he lowers his chin to glare at me. He watches me in numbing silence as I look from the closed bedroom door and back to his intense gaze. Then he leers at me and I swallow hard.

"Run, human. Run as fast and far as your little feet can bring you."

My face scrunch in confusion and then eyes widen in realisation when he began his count from ten. Without another moment to lose, I pivot on my heels and bolt from the spot. I dash out of the room and slam into the wall across it.

"Nine."

I push myself off and trample down the winding staircase of my home and made my way through piles of metal and concrete ruins.

"Eight."

I finally reach the main hall, dodging and jumping over the bodies strewn on the floors that were once full of life.

"Seven."

I didn't know where I was headed, but I had to get out of here... and fast! I stop and gasp for air, ignoring the loud pounding of my heart in my ears. I look around and see a door ahead, quickly pushing off on my feet as I make a beeline for it without a thought.

"Six."

I let out a frustrating whimper when the door wouldn't budge. So I pull back and give it a kick with strength I never knew I possess. Once the door was opened, I quickly dash out of my home, sighing in relief as cold, crisp air hit my body. Then I continue to run.

I could hear him calling out five loudly as if he was breathing down my neck. I let out a cry as I push my legs further and faster past the vast backyard lawn. My eyes begin to tear. This cannot be happening to me!

Scurrying across the garden, my hands found their way to the grenades attached to my hip belt and I silently thanked God for keeping them intact. With about six grenades in my clutches, I bring one after another to my lip and grit on the safety levers between my teeth. With each lever pulled and removed, I turn to throw the grenades through the door which led me out.

Then I turn and high tail out of there.

Within seconds, explosion upon explosion echo violently behind me. Fierce shock waves knock me off my feet and I fall on my hands and knees. I turn around, scrambling on the heel of my palms and instantly regretted it. The building I was born in, grew up in, and learned to love in is now in complete ruins, being devoured by a vicious inferno. I release a heart wrenching sob as I recall my parents' bodies are still in there, now engulfed in fire. I grimace at that fact but it comforts me to know that now they'll turn into ashes... and the wind will carry them away from this God forsaken place.

I clench my eyes and allow the tears to finally fall. There will be time for me to mourn but it isn't now, so I quickly recover. I get up on my feet and continue to run towards the dreary woods adjacent to my backyard. But I didn't know... they were waiting for me.

I ram hard into a boulder, letting out a yelp and cursing in pain as I felt my nose shatter from impact before I fell on my bottom. Holding onto my possibly broken nose, I climb back up on my feet to run again. I could feel his evil presence closing in on me; nearing with each passing second. But before I could even get past three steps, big, rough hands wound themselves around my waist and whoever it was yanked me away from the direction I was headed.

I scream at the top of my lungs as my back crushes into another hard surface. The hands held onto me firmly while I kick with all that I have. My fingers bite into the fleshes around me as I hoped to cause my perpetrator pain. I finally looked around and almost expelled all the contents in my stomach. My heart dropped at the sight of another five burly aliens of the same damned race standing and towering over me as if I was nothing but a puny insect.

I look up to the alien holding me and blanch as he flashes me a wicked smirk that screams rape; his eyes dancing with lust. My composure returns and I start to kick again, struggling violently; thrashing and screaming obscenities in all languages known to me. I thought I'd kicked him in his groin, but I guess he didn't even feel that. Damn bastards!

Then... _he_ appears from the dark sky and lands in front of us all.

I froze and truly studied his form. He is small in size compared to his counterparts, but I also notice one thing about him. The rest of the men seem to cower before him, waiting for his instructions as if he was their superior. Perhaps what he said was true; that he was most feared being in the entire universe.

I send him the hardest glare one could muster. He takes a step forward and the other five align themselves almost in a straight line. He strides before us all, carrying a regal aura around him as his red cape billows by his knees with every step that he takes. And I realise another thing about him; the air surrounding him was deafening, blinding even, and for a second I thought my heart and breathing have stopped.

"What do we do with this lil' wench?" the bastard gripping me asks and I turn to glare at him with the corner of my eyes, before hatefully eyeing the rest of them.

_Sons of bitches!_

A brief silence hangs in the air as the short one contemplates. Soon after, he replies, "Find her skills, and put her to work," and he turns to walk away without another word.

The man before me snickers under his breath as his hold on me tightens, "Know what I'm gonna do, harlot?" he whispers in my ear, "I'm gonna taste you first," and he grinds his disgusting arousal up my ass. I scrunch my face in sheer disgust and struggle, biting my nails into his arms again hoping that he'll put me down in the least. Well, he didn't feel that, too.

Suddenly, light illuminated the dark woods, and in that split second, a bright blue ki-ball hurtles from the direction where the short one was last seen headed. The damn thing headed straight for me and I clench my eyes, citing my last prayer in my mind and waited for the blow. Just as I felt the intense heat searing my face, I knew I was a goner. But the hit didn't come. Instead, it went straight for the man behind me – straight to his head.

I let out a bloodcurdling scream when I heard bones cracked and bits of fleshes splattered all over the back of my head and neck. Hot liquid flows down my entire back and the hands release me, and I fall hard on my knees.

"You're all going to burn in hell! IN HELL!" I scream at the top of my lungs, clutching my head as if I was holding onto the last of my sanity. My eyes were still clenched tightly as I allow myself to finally cry. So I bawled. The last thing I heard was feet shuffling towards me and the last thing I felt was hot pain shooting down my neck. I guess they knocked me out cold.

* * *

Prince Vegeta stood before his soldiers as he stared at the limp body of the woman whom his advisor has knocked out.

"Hmph. What a loud mouth," his royal highness muttered to himself before turning to the burly man who stood next to him. Vegeta's glare hardened as he realised his subordinate was staring at the female human with an all too familiar glint in his eyes. He growled, garnering the attention of his advisor and gave him a warning glower before turning to the rest of the cohort, giving them the same glare.

"No one is to touch this woman," he ordered in a cold yet collected voice, pausing for emphasis as he narrowed his eyes at his minions, "... unless you wish to join the last person I killed, be my guest."

He pivoted on his heel, uncaring for an answer from his men as he jumped into the air to get away from the crowd.

"Kakarot!" he called to his advisor as he swirled in midair. From the ground, Kakarot looked at his superior expectantly, awaiting further orders.

"While on the ship, you will be relieved of your duties to me."

At this, Kakarot's eyes widened as he stared at his prince questioningly.

Prince Vegeta smirked and continued, "You will be babysitting the woman until planet fall. Tend to her and keep her out of trouble," he ordered and as an afterthought, "She can be a handful." With that he turned to leave, making headway for the flagship without a backward glance.

Kakarot stared wide-eyed at the retreating back of his prince, baffled by the task that's just been assigned to him. His comrades snickered and he glared at them, silencing them with a deep scowl of annoyance. They cleared their throats and took to the air after their prince, leaving the higher ranked saiyan to take on his farce of a responsibility.

The tall saiyan turned to the woman and crouched by her side. He studied her frail form before gently turning her over. He stared at her for a few seconds before brushing away the messy blue tendrils covering her face for a better look. His eyes roamed all over her features and figure, '_She is a rather lovely specimen'_, he thought, bringing himself back to his task as he briefly wondered if this was the reason why his prince would want her to be put under strict supervision. He swooped her languid body into his arms with a frown on his face. She was feather light, and he shook his head at the imminent unfortunate events his prince no doubt has in store for her. It'll be a miracle and an act of mercy should she survive them all. Still, he took off into the air with her clutched tightly in his arms.

He grimaced as he neared the ship, inwardly chastising himself for almost feeling bad for this woman.

* * *

**So, how did you like that? Not bad, huh?! Alright!**

**Pfft! I'm getting ahead of myself. Hope that was a fine chapter. Let the reviews flood my inbox once again!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I swear my chapters get longer every time! This is pressure. XD**

**Now, go and enjoy!**

**| ImaginaryInk |**

* * *

Hours have gone by since the Saiyans departed from Planet Earth. Having no designated room for the human captive, Kakarot merely dumped the woman on his bed in his own private quarters. True, the flagship was enormous, but what better way to keep an eye on her if not placing her in his room? So, ignoring the blood soaked on her back which eventually soaked his mattress, Kakarot sat stoically in the leather sofa chair from across the bed.

He sat slumped with a leg crossed over on the opposite knee, his elbows resting on both armrests. His head was tipped a little to the side, supported by a fist as his eyes remained glued on the humanoid. The blue-haired woman was sprawled on his bed unconscious though there were the occasional twitches. There were times when he'd thought she'd awaken and became alarmed, but settled back down when she fell back into slumber within the next second.

'_This is boring!_' Kakarot thought as he wondered what his boss and peers were up to. He really didn't want to babysit an alien captive. This has _never_ happened before! After all, he knew how to guard someone but not looking after and tending to another person. He spent hours silently berating his prince for his highness' lapse in judgement, and then blaming the woman for catching his prince's eye. He then seethed in anger at himself for being at the wrong place at the wrong time when he was stripped off his duties, even if it was only temporarily.

He took in a sharp breath and ran a hand through his thick, wild mane. Between berating people and watching the human sleep, he'd tried conjuring up a plan on how he was going to go about this. Being put in this situation was out of his ordinary. Therefore, he was confused, and then he became angry, only to be confused again. Never before a purge ended like this. True, there were alien captives after purges but those captives were mostly thrown into the cells down below. But then again, he had to remind himself that this was no ordinary purge.

The Saiyans were currently on a mission – in search for something or someone to aid and ease their current political issues with another warlord.

Tangled in an affiliation with the Cold Empire, the Saiyans were the only other shareholder in the Planet Trade Organisation, where planets all over the universe were scoured and purged, quotations were released to the next interested buyers, and contracts were sealed before they moved on to the next resourceful planet. As such, no planets were spared.

Four quadrants of the universe were equally divided amongst the empires and respectively conquered, thus profits were also equally shared. The Colds were always armed with state-of-the-art technology and has been for decades as they were always creating and at the same time, always destroying; while the Saiyans were battle savvy and natural strategists with only brute strength, master plans, and immense power to hold their fort. Together both empires were unstoppable; it was the perfect partnership.

Generations later the PTO began to show flaws in its system. Money went missing, planets were reported destroyed, and naturally trusts faltered. While civil in person, both empires strove to overthrow the other behind the others' backs. Both empires strove to win, to rule the universe, and to change their fate.

Meanwhile, the Saiyans were currently caught in a political uproar. The King had just passed on several months prior and his next of kin, the Crown Prince of Vegetasei will soon take his place and ascend to the throne. The empire was divided and torn; some demanded for a democratic system, while some insisted on the force of a ruthless leader. At the same time, the Colds took advantage of this crack in the Saiyan's realm and decided to interfere, causing mayhem within the kingdom right under the natives' noses. Eventually, Prince Vegeta learned about this treachery. Though he decided to keep mum on the subject, he was not about to let something like that happen, hence the search for intervention.

Maybe… just maybe this woman is what they were looking for. Maybe she is the key to…

'_No,' _Kakarot shook his head and stubbornly looked away,_ "She is nothing but a weak human female. She couldn't be of much help. At most she'd be put in the harem where she belongs._'

He anticipated this was going to be a long trip home. Several more hours passed much to his _delight_, and he found himself having fallen asleep some time in between. He woke up, shifting in his chair and buried his face in his big palms to rub the sleep off of his face. Fatigue was hitting him like a ki-blast but he knew he had to wait for the woman to wake up and get some things straight, set some rules, and put her on a very short leash. He also knew that should anything happen to her while on his watch, it will be his neck.

Another hour went by before the woman finally came to. The first thing she felt was the tearing pain in her nose, then came the throbbing ache which seared from her neck straight up to her head. She had no choice but to just lie quietly and ride both aches out. A good ten minutes went by and her eyes slowly cracked open. Darkness surrounded her and she narrowed her eyes, squinting to get a clearer vision of the only thing in her line of sight – the ceiling.

'_Where on earth am I?_'

She blinked before pushing herself up, but quickly regretted it when another shot of pain stroke her neck and this time, down her spine. A hand flew to her nape as she massaged the tender spot, groaning and moaning in pain. Her eyes clenched tightly as she continued rubbing her neck, hoping the pain will subside shortly. Little did she know a pair of dark, obsidian eyes were intensely watching her every move.

"Stop that," said the voice. It was soft, calm, and low.

Her eyes flew open as she gasped. Her blue orbs darted aimlessly, sighting every corner of the room before they fell on the silhouette that was seated in a chair across from her, shrouded in the darkness. Instinctively, she got up on her knees and scooted away, only to meet with the headboard. She whimpered but ceased when the silhouette in the dark did not move.

"Who is that?" she hissed, but at the same time, she was curious, "And stop at what?"

The silhouette began to shift and he stood up tall. He stepped to the side, flicking on the light switch before padding towards the foot of the bed with arms firmly folded across his chest. The woman shielded her eyes from the sudden glare, and then widened with fear as soon as she saw him – she's seen him before. He was there when they… when they…

"Who are you?" she questioned the burly man, glaring daggers at him.

"My name is Kakarot, advisor and right hand to the Crown Prince of Vegetasei, who is also the supreme ruler of the Vierra and Sienna Quadrants," he introduced himself, "And now that formalities are out of the way, I highly suggest you to stop that moaning. Don't ever, under any circumstances, express your discomfort in such a way, especially in the presence of a Saiyan man."

The woman blinked, and then narrowed her eyes. No doubt her mind registered all that he uttered but one thing baffled her, "What is a… Seyern?"

Kakarot blinked and nearly sputtered when she butchered his proud race's name. "_Sai-yan_, not _Sey-eRn_," he emphasised before exhaling loudly, "I am a Saiyan, native to the planet called Vegetasei," he explained, placing a palm on his chest before pointing a finger at her as if she was a clueless little child, "And as our captive, you are on your way to Vegetasei."

A long awkward silence passed between the aliens. The woman seemed to be lost in thought as if processing all that he just told her. Kakarot was beginning to get frustrated and shifted on his legs, and before he could react, the woman cried and pounced from her spot, pulling on the first thing she got her hands on – his hair.

"What the-" he growled as the woman clung onto him, yanked on his hair, clawed his face, and punched anywhere that was not armoured.

"I am no one's prisoner!" she wailed furiously as she resumed her pitiful beatings, "Re -_punch_- lease -_swat_- me!"

Kakarot was on the verge of flinging her off of him but after envisioning the torture he'd suffer at the hands of his prince if she got hurt, he went against it. But her wailing was becoming unbearable, so he did the only thing he could.

"Get off of me, you crazy bitch, before I do something drastic!" he threatened. And despite the fact that she was still clinging onto his hair and thrashing wildly, it was relatively easy to pry her off of him. Once he unlatched her from him, he shoved her away till she fell on the mattress.

"I want you to release me!"

"You don't have a say in this, human," he snarled, focused on straightening his hair and stroking the scratches she bestowed to his face. He looked at his fingers and scowled at the blood before glaring at her, "… you're gonna pay for that."

Her fingers clenched the bed sheets as she returned his glare, "I said release me," she demanded through gritted teeth, her resolve hanging by a thread.

He scoffed, "I don't think you understand, Earthling. You're a prisoner on a spaceship that's headed towards a distant planet. Your home is gone, your world is gone, and you belong to us now. You have nowhere to go."

The woman trembled with suppressed, unexplained rage. She felt the last of her resolve finally dwindle away and began to look around aimlessly like a lost child. Her shoulders slumped and the fists in the sheets loosened. Reality finally sunk in and she sobbed.

Kakarot's expression hardened at her show of weakness. He needed to do something before she began to bawl and that was one thing he could never stand. In fact, this was the reason why he had knocked her out back on Earth.

Of course, he could knock her out again. He had considered doing so even before she came to but keeping her in a comatose state until planet fall would be highly impractical.

So he climbed onto the bed, scooted towards her miserable form, and cupped her chin. The Earthling stared at him with glazed, tearful eyes.

"Pull yourself together," he murmured to her, unable to comprehend the sudden need to comfort this alien.

As if snapping out of a trance, fire sparked in her eyes and the earthling was enraged again. She swatted Kakarot's hand away and yowled, snarling as she attacked him again. She seized his nape in an attempt to drag him down towards her knee that was poised and ready to connect to his gut.

Naturally, Kakarot overpowered her and he briefly wondered why she even bothered. He pulled back; once again effortlessly prying her off of him. This time he didn't back away but instead pinned her down on the shoulders to keep her in place. To his surprise, that didn't even stop her. She began to kick him but Kakarot anticipated such a move so he used his knees to pin her legs down as well, successfully stopping her from thrashing or moving further.

Kakarot glared down at her, his lips pulled into a menacing snarl. He released her shoulders only to lock her wrists above her head, permanently keeping her in place. Somehow, she still managed to buck in his grip so he used his free hand and gave her a mild tap (by his standards) of his fingers to the face, effectively snapping her out of her raging stupor.

The woman ceased her thrashing as awareness slowly returned to her clouded eyes. They then widened in shock when it finally dawned on her that she was helplessly pinned beneath a man. She shut her eyes tight and choked on an oncoming sob, allowing a set of hot tears to flow down her cheeks. Then she wept as she released all her pain and frustrations.

"Enough," Kakarot grumbled calmly, his face mere inches from hers.

"N-no..." she shook her head, unable and unwilling to accept her fate. She may be a brilliant woman but no one in their right mind would embrace such a fate with an open heart. Kakarot cupped her face, pressing her cheeks together, "Look at me."

Teary blue eyes cracked open and the woman sobbed brokenly.

"I'm going to let go of you and you will not try to kick me or touch my face again," he growled softly but when she didn't respond, he shook her a little, "Got it?"

She nodded reluctantly, purposely avoiding his piercing glare. At that, he frowned but let it slip. Slowly, he released her and backed away before gingerly settling by the edge of the bed. He studied her current condition with hooded eyes, then satisfied that she wasn't going to move, he cleared his throat.

"Now, there will be a set of rules for you to adhere to," he started diplomatically, pausing to let his words sink in, "Listen to me and abide by them, and you will at the very least remain intact."

"... That's reassuring," the woman murmured disdainfully, still avoiding his gaze.

"Silence, human! You will not speak until I am done!" Kakarot roared, his patience clearly running thin. She glared at him and huffed, looking away as he moved from the bed and began pacing the floor, running a hand through his thick mane. Once he felt calmer, he ceased his pacing and glared at her back.

"You will most likely be working in the palace, but as what will only be determined once we land. The better your skills are, the easier your life will be; in other words, it is wise to take this advantage to disclose your full potential," he offered, finally getting her full attention.

Then, he allowed his eyes to roam her figure from head to toe if only to further prove the underlying cost should she decide to hide her talents, "Else, judging by your appearance, you'd most likely end up in the imperial harem; and if that fails too, you'd either be dead by then or sent to the street brothels outside of the palace. It's your choice."

At this, the woman pushed herself upright and looked at the man before her to see if he was lying. After spending a full minute just studying his face, she concluded that he wasn't. She sighed in defeat and looked away, nodding solemnly.

Kakarot frowned, "Now, as long as you work for the empire, you dwell in the palace; therefore you are a Royal Servant. Whether as an unpaid or paid servant will only be divulged once your worth is rated," he explained.

"The following rules are simple; they apply to all palace servants. First; I know of Earth's democratic ways but note that on Vegetasei there will be none of that for it is a planet reigned by a single monarch; hence you will answer to his majesty's commands and anyone superior to you by rank without questions asked," he stated with a firm wave of his hand and then moved on.

"Second, unless you are given the authority to hand out orders or assign tasks to other people, do _not_ forget your place," he explained with a frown as he was reminded of the woman attacking him moments earlier and sent a cold stare her way.

"Third," he growled at the memory, finally getting the woman's full attention, "Mind your own business and go about your duties. Whoever you associate with is not the business of others as much as their associations are not yours.

Once we land, you will make a solemn oath to proclaim your loyalty and integrity to the throne and to your new ruler his majesty, Prince Vegeta.

Which leads us to the fourth rule..." he paused, finding the right, intimidating words to feed her, "You will serve and contribute to the Saiyan Empire wholeheartedly. Therefore, treason, betrayal, and deceit will immediately result in public humiliation and followed by punishment deemed fit by Saiyan law; otherwise it will be at the absolute discretion of the prince. No questions about it."

Kakarot stopped talking and allowed the woman to comprehend all that he said. There was a long pause before she decided to comment on them, which he merely rolled his eyes and frowned. Somehow he knew she couldn't keep her mouth shut for long.

"Are you done talking?" she questioned with a growl and a frown of her own, her arms folded loosely over her midsection. Kakarot merely nodded as he too folded his arms, "Yes, I am done."

"Good. Now I shall speak and you will not say a word until I am done," she chided. Kakarot dropped his arms and gawked at her, completely dumbfounded by her audacity. He was about to refute but she quickly cut him off as she began her own sermon.

"First off, in spite of 'Earth's democratic ways'," she mocked his words as she did the air quote gesture, "Judging from all that you told me about your planet, the Saiyans are nothing but a bunch of ripped, brawny barbarians who have no idea how to run a country, much less an entire planet. This alone is enough proof that there is nothing advanced about your _superior_ race or your undivided sovereignty. In fact, I could probably give your prince some ideas on how to manage you... and a planet!" she quipped, holding up a palm as Kakarot was about to open his mouth.

"Secondly, let's put 'ranks' aside," she did another air quote, "_You_ are just like me, a servant serving _his majesty_ and answering to his every beck and call like a little slut. Now, I don't care if you are superior to me by rank or strength, you don't set this rule for me because you are _not_ above me, nor any other creature with a greater post than mine."

He stepped forward, pointed a finger at her, and snarled, "You-" but she cut him off again.

"Third!" she pointed a finger back at him, "You tell me to mind my own business but if you had _any_ idea who I am and what I am capable of, you'd wish you hadn't."

"What are you capable of then?" he growled, hating that the woman was bending his rules already.

"HA! Wouldn't you like to know?" she flashed him a smug smirk, which strangely enough, kind of looked familiar to him, "But I'm not telling you what I can do. In fact, I'm not going to say anything until I see your prince _personally_."

Kakarot pressed his lips together, his nostrils flaring as his anger rose, "You don't get to decide that!"

"Oh, yeah?" she goaded, hands on her hips as she moved to stand on the mattress to level with his enormous height. And even that, she was several centimetres short from eye-level, "I'm telling you that I _get to_, or you will regret it when he finds out that you didn't let me."

He lifted a shaking palm, fingers wide and poised to attack, "You insufferable. manipulative. asinine-", and his eyes widened in horror as he realised that he was actually refraining himself from striking her.

Feeling bolder than before, the woman took advantage of his hesitation and swatted his big hand away, "I'm not finished! You implied that the Earthlings are of a backward race, but your race lives off by destroying, killing innocents, stealing homes, and kidnapping people! Our democratic ways helped build a world that resulted in attaining a way more advanced system than what you have.

You talk about treason, betrayal, deceit, and punishment. Well let me guess what those punishments are – Torture? Banishment? Death? We humans have been over and done with ancient monarchy rulings for centuries so what you have is a backward government ruled by a _backward_. _selfish_. _apathetic_. _unprincipled._ _tyrant_!"

The woman huffed heavily and swallowed to catch her breath.

"I will not bow down to your prince, Kakarot," she finished softly but firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument. She breathed deeply to dampen her exasperation as her eyes set in a hardened glare, her cheeks flushed with hot anger.

Kakarot stood there with a heavy glower of his own as his mind pounded him with questions. Prince Vegeta wasn't lying when he said she can be a handful. He mentally cursed his prince for shoving her his way for he now understood that this petite, delirious woman was not only a handful, but bossy and downright lethal. She must be some sort of a mad scientist or political figure or trained assassin or something. He told himself that he'd have to be careful around her.

He didn't get to become the prince's advisor and right hand if he wasn't this vigilant, intelligent, and cunning. His astute observations and preternatural strength which rivalled his prince's were what secured his place in the Empire. Sure she's got an attitude and perhaps some smarts that were yet to be determined, but she's also got a temper to rival his prince's. He had to play his cards right with this one, there was no other way about it.

If his earlier assumptions were right, she'd be of great use to the Empire, and their mission.

"If what you say is true; that humans have ceased monarchy rulings for hundreds of years; then _you_ couldn't possibly understand what tyranny is," he countered calmly, gently lifting her chin with a finger, "Or how difficult it is to manage and keep billions of people in line," he whispered to her face as he closed the distance between their noses. She trembled within his tender hold, "Or even how _one man_ is willing to go all out to fight to save his dignity, his life, his people, and his planet."

They stayed like that for several seconds, the air of hostility hanging in the air above them. Then Kakarot saw a shimmer of realisation in the woman's eyes. She was the first to look away, jerking her chin from his grasp. She scooted away to settle quietly by the headboard while Kakarot moved to switch the lights off before plunging into the sofa chair he occupied earlier. He rested his face in his big palm, rubbing the stress off his eyes before supporting his chin on his fist so that he could glare at the suddenly now docile woman.

And just like that, he knew to pull the guilt card on her, among many others he's yet to discover, if he wanted to keep her under his control.

She was ignoring him again, acting as if he wasn't there. Not that he had any problems with it to begin with. He sighed inaudibly as he shifted into a more comfortable position, his body and eyes begging for a temporary shutdown. He closed his eyes and frowned, ready to fall into a dreamless slumber while he mentally berated himself for being almost always right.

For one, this was definitely going to be the longest journey home, ever.

* * *

Several more hours passed and Kakarot awoke to the sound of soft snoring. He blinked a few and yawned before settling his eyes on the woman. He reclined back, resting his head sloppily on the headrest as he watched her sleep with hooded eyes. He started to muse as he took in the condition of her attire. They were torn and tattered, and will probably need new ones. The he studied her form; she was lying on her back though she was facing away from him. One of her arm was sprawled to the side while the other rested on her stomach. He then observed her breathing and he found himself unable to look away as the slow and even rise and fall of her chest mesmerised him.

He blinked and turned away, momentarily shutting his eyes to visualise his last battle. But the harder he tried to look away, the harder it was to ignore her presence. He turned back to her with a frown as he realised he couldn't look away any longer. So he got up. In the darkness of the room, he manoeuvred his way towards her effortlessly and crouched on the floor, next to the bedside where she was facing.

He leaned into the hard mattress mere inches from her, careful not to wake her as he steadied himself on his elbows. With his keen sight, he studied her face intently like she was a battle plan. He watched her for a long while, entranced by the rhythm of her breathing and the twitched of her closed eye lids. He mused aimlessly as he thought about practically nothing other than registering the woman's hair, skin, and facial details.

Her eyes then fluttered open, and Kakarot froze.

The blackness in the room consumed her. It took her awhile to adjust to the darkness but she finally made out Kakarot's silhouette that was strangely towering over her. Alarmed, she gasped and pulled back a little, her face scrunched in confusion, "Were you... why were you watching me sleep?" she asked, her voice raspy and heavily laden with sleep.

"I-you... you should get up now," he stuttered then stood up and turned to walk towards the door, exhaling a soft sigh of relief that the lights were off as he felt his cheeks burned. Startled at the fact that he was about to leave her alone, the woman sat up and asked almost fearfully in a meek voice, "W-where are you going?"

As soon as she asked that question, his stomach growled, further reddening his already flushed face. Grateful that he's had his back facing her, he tipped his head slightly to the side and contemplated if he should bring her with him. While he wanted to eat in peace, half his mind told him to leave her here. But he was certain she would try escaping and flee the room, though she would never get far in a spaceship. Meanwhile, the other half urged him to simply bring her along just so he could keep a closer watch over her. Either way, both would lead to the fact that she will be seen by all who dwelled on the ship. He was, after all, supposed to keep her out of trouble.

Kakarot shook his head and exhaled loudly, "To eat," he said simply as he approached the door. It was then the woman's tummy growled and she blushed a pretty pink flush, which Kakarot did not miss. He turned to look back at her, cleared his throat, and said, "I'm not bringing anything back for you if that's what you're hoping for. I'm not your servant," and turned to walk on.

She didn't miss the silent invitation and pushed herself off the bed, quietly trailing behind his towering back. Male soldiers who were loitering in the hallway avoided Kakarot's path but lingered to give the woman an eyeful. Lucky for her hip belt, she was able to keep her torn zipper together. Meanwhile, the women fluttered their lashes and swooned shamelessly at the prince's advisor before glaring at the blue-eye, blue-haired alien with an envious glint.

The Earthling swallowed apprehensively as she picked up pace to stay closer to Kakarot, as if he was her protector. Her stomach churned not from hunger, but in dread as a bad feeling crept into her consciousness.

* * *

The only mess hall in the ship was just that; a huge, messy hall – noisy, dirty, stinky, and filled with testosterone driven Saiyans, males and females alike. Elites, and first, second, and third class soldiers all gathered here when they had no better place to be. They ate, partied, hung out, and some even slept in this common room.

People were talking loudly and at the same time but as Kakarot and the woman zipped by, the noise gradually decreased before the Saiyans went back to their business. Murmurs were heard as people began to whisper, no doubt talking about the new addition to the ship. This made the woman agitated yet afraid at the same time. So she walked faster, almost colliding into Kakarot's back when he made an abrupt halt by the food counter.

The tall Saiyan placed several large plates into a tray and filled them up with mountain piles of food. The Earthling followed suit but all she grabbed was a few apple-looking fruits that were pink in colour. She scrunched her nose in disgust as she browsed through the rest of the food. She then turned to look at what the rest of the people were eating, but quickly looked away when they glared at her.

Kakarot spotted an empty four-seater table in the corner of the hall and moved towards it. The woman trailed quietly behind, avoiding everyone's stares as she passed them by. They sat on opposite sides, facing one another and began to eat in silence. Apart from the other loud occupants, the only other noises were coming from Kakarot, who was munching loudly.

The woman looked around like a helpless child as she nibbled pitifully on her fruit, not particularly liking the overly sweet taste of it but not complaining either. At one point, she merely focused on Kakarot and his eating habits. She had never seen anyone ate as much and as fast as he did, "That's a lot of food. How do you eat?" She asked, with a disgusted expression on her face. He reminded her of a pig, only a little bit more graceful.

Kakarot finally looked up from his meal and slowed down his munching as he stared at her stoically. He then inclined his head towards her plate of three pitiful fruits and quipped, "That's too little, even by human standards. So, how do you eat?" and with that said, he ignored her and returned to his food, uncaring for her reply.

She pulled her lips back in disgust before focusing on her food once again, feeling slightly neglected and annoyed. She chewed very slowly as she quietly observed the rest of the occupants in the room and noticed that they ate the same amount of food, only in a lot greedier manner.

"Ignore them."

She turned back to him and eyed him incredulously. Well, maybe he wasn't really ignoring her after all. In fact, Kakarot was quietly observing the woman's body language and had concluded that she was frightened by the sheer number of large Saiyans crowding a room, and he could see that her apprehension was getting the better of her. Sooner or later, he would have to stop her from staring at the others for too long; else she'd get them both into trouble.

Aaand speaking of trouble...

The cafeteria's large metal door hissed and slid open to reveal two hungry Saiyans. They stepped forward and scoured the room before setting their sights on Kakarot and what appeared to be a blue-haired alien chick sitting across from him. They looked at one another and smirked, and made their way towards their kin and his guest.

The Earthling gasped aloud when two burly Saiyans slid into the seats next to Kakarot and herself. Eyes widened, she looked over to Kakarot for help but he seemed to be annoyed yet impartial by their presence.

The two newcomers appeared in two different shapes and sizes. The man sitting next to Kakarot had an enormous build, way bigger than Kakarot's. Though their facial features were almost identical, the larger man has a longer but neater mane.

Meanwhile, the one sitting next to the woman bears a resemblance to Kakarot, with their skin tone as the only exception. Kakarot was fair, this one was tanned. But unlike Kakarot and the others, this one donned a grey and black armour suit. It was something that didn't go unnoticed by the woman.

"Hello, _brother_," smirked and greeted the large Saiyan in a mock sweet, courteous voice, "You're a dick for not introducing your new friend to us," he teased, taking advantage of Kakarot's food-filled mouth to suavely introduced himself to the woman, "Greetings, name's Raditz. I'm Kakarot's older brother, and this is Turles," he inclined his head to the other guy, "Our least favourite cousin."

Kakarot swallowed his food and warned, "Watch your mouths."

"I'm your _only_ cousin, shithead," Turles countered as he blatantly ignored Kakarot, rolling his eyes at the tallest Saiyan. Kakarot and the woman noticed the obvious disacknowledgement, but let it slip.

"See what I mean," added Raditz, then his expression suddenly became serious as he turned his attention towards the food counter, "Food's almost gone. Let's go," he announced to Turles, and with that, both Saiyans disappeared just as quickly as they came.

A small smile graced the woman's lips and she looked away, her eyes twinkling with amusement at the brief but somewhat comical introduction of the newcomers. They even seemed normal at one point. But when she remembered her current situation and how she had ended up here, grief washed over her once more and she kept her head down. While the other two were busy scavenging for food, Kakarot didn't miss the minute smile and the solemn expression on her face.

"Do not, under any circumstances, react or talk to them," he warned, not even looking up from his plate of food.

Her brows furrowed and whispered, "Why?"

"Because Raditz is _a big idiot_ who welcomes trouble; and Turles is an _even bigger_ _idiot_ who causes trouble," he growled impatiently, recalling an extended purging mission two months back led by the Elite Class B squad, which consisted of Raditz, Turles, and three other Saiyans.

During that mission, Turles had gotten bored and tried to ruin the planet's worth. He almost successfully convinced everyone how 'gardening and planting trees will help increase the planet's reselling value'. Naturally, no one bought it and Raditz managed to report Turles' misbehaviour back to Kakarot in time and was given the rights to literally _beat_ their cousin out of planting what was known as the Seed of Might.

After that, all Turles received was a beating from Kakarot. And fortunately for them all, his majesty didn't catch wind of Turles' intention. It was also a happy day for Raditz as he stood by the sidelines and gleefully watched the beating unfurl like a sick form of amusement to kill time.

No doubt, Turles became an unhappy Saiyan after that, always flashing glares and sending the occasional threats and imprecations his cousins' way. Even after two months since then, he still held a grudge, though it was visibly waning with time. As of now, they could still feel a hint of awkward hostility hanging over them like a stubborn, raging storm cloud.

'_Dumbasses_,' Kakarot mentally cursed his kin, and then glared at the woman before returning to his food.

She looked down again and murmured in mild agitation, "They seem nice," she hated being reprimanded like a child.

"They're _not_ nice," he angrily corrected.

Shortly after, Raditz and Turles returned with trays filled with whatever food that were left. They plunged into their respective seats and began to chow down, flashing toothy grins at the meek Earthling every once in a while like a couple of lecherous rats. This frightened the woman and she constantly looked to Kakarot for some sort of aid, but all he had done so far was dutifully ignoring her and his kin.

Until Turles opened his mouth.

"This is really sweet," he commented as he took a bite off the same pink fruit the woman had, savouring the juices bursting and swirling on his taste buds as he chewed with an agonisingly slow pace. He sighed dramatically, then turned to her and said, "You know, sweetness is my weakness," he grinned, winking slyly at her as he slid a hand to her waist.

The woman stared at Turles, dumbfounded but somewhat impressed. '_Charming, but cheesy. Are all men throughout the universe the same?_' she groaned inwardly. Though, she felt a smirk curling on her lips and was about to brush him like she would a human male when a growl was heard and someone else beat her to it.

"Back off, Turles!" Kakarot snarled, leaning across the table and forcefully tilting his chair over as he punched Turles in the face. For the sake of the ship and its passengers, he controlled his strength well, putting just enough force in his punch to knock his cousin off his feet and into the adjacent tables and their occupants.

Everyone, including the Earthling, who was in the vicinity scattered away, steering clear of the area. Nobody wanted to get pulled into the brawl, especially not one where the prince's advisor was involved. Meanwhile, Raditz was having a hard time restraining Kakarot, clutching him from behind as the younger Saiyan struggled to pull free from his brother's grasp to go after their cousin.

Turles pulled himself out of the rubbles, shouting obscenities at Kakarot. He swayed unsteadily towards his cousin, wiping the heavy streak of blood off the corner of his torn lips. He stared at the glistening crimson smudged on the back of his fingerless glove and snarled before glaring hard at the culprit. He never liked the sight of his own blood, "The fuck is your problem?!"

"Did I not warn you the last time that you're on a tight leash?!" Kakarot growled, finally pulling free from his brother's restraint. That was only because Raditz couldn't hold onto him for too long.

"I'll show you a tight leash," Turles snarled as his eyes flashed with burning fury, "I'm gonna fucking rip your head off with it!" he yelled, spitting a blotch of blood while he clenched his fists. With a battle cry, he pounced towards his cousin, finally releasing all pent-up frustrations he'd had against Kakarot into this inevitable fight.

Kakarot crossed his forearms over his face in defence, taking the brunt as he effortlessly held his ground. Turles knew he couldn't stand a chance against his stronger cousin, yet he still attacked him with a series of rapid punches to the sides as he aimed for Kakarot's guarded head.

The fair-skinned fighter slid to the side, causing Turles to slip forward before he elbowed the darker Saiyan in the nape and sending him crashing face-down to the floor. But Turles bounced back on his palm and immediately recovered, spinning around and flinging little ki-discs towards his attacker.

"You know damn well it's against the rules to attack with ki in the ship, _dear cousin_," spat Kakarot as he swerved to avoid every single attack. He then charged towards Turles, doing his best to maintain this brawl as a hand-to-hand combat but was failing miserably.

"Screw you, Kakarot!" Turles cried, and blasted several more ki-blasts at Kakarot.

The identical cousins violently struggled for dominance and toppled over tables, chairs, and even people, exchanging fierce blows and lewd suggestions as the crowd cheered on. Fed up with this one-sided fight, Kakarot then fazed from his spot and swiftly appeared behind Turles. Sensing the air shifting radically behind him, the tanned Saiyan cried as he whipped around to throw a ki-induced punch but instead was met with an unexpected powerful spinning, jumping back kick right in the chest.

The kick propelled Turles several metres back and into the metal wall next to the only door to the canteen, causing an enormous, life-size indentation on the platform. He fell on his sides in a painful heap but still managed to support himself up on an elbow. He shook his head to regain his composure, but a sudden stroke of pain pierced his chest and he wheezed. He winced and tried to move. He looked down to see his armour shattered in the middle and as another painful shock waved through his body again, he knew his ribs were broken and his lungs were punctured.

"Had enough?" Kakarot growled, folding his arms over his chest.

"You pummelled me -_wheeze_- for a wench? Classy, cousin -_wheeze_-... classy."

"I'd watch my mouth if I were you. Prince Vegeta doesn't take lightly to people speaking poorly of his possessions and property."

It was then it dawned on Turles why his own cousin had attacked him. This woman belonged to the prince and oh, was he in _big trouble_. But Turles being Turles, he would never go down without a fight, or at least not without trying to get off the hook. And playing the innocent card always seemed to work.

"How -_wheeze_- the fuck could I have known that? -_wheeze_- You didn't say anything!"

"You should know better than to play with _what_ _is not yours_," Kakarot sneered calmly. He knew that Turles was trying to worm his way out of this. He mentally shook his head at such predictability and thought, '_Not this time, cousin. Not this time. You've severely lucked out._"

Though the woman watched the battle apprehensively on the side, she scowled as she felt herself boiling angrily at Kakarot's words and was on the verge of lashing out at the scumbag of a man. She was not a goddamn possession and she most certainly wasn't anyone's goddamn property!

"Against your better judgement, you have repeatedly broken the rules; mostly disrespecting and rebelling against your superiors. As such, I'm putting you under quarantine and strict observation in the isolation cell and until you renounce your lack of reverence and truly learn to abide by the rules laid down by his majesty and the kings before him, you _will remain_ imprisoned," Kakarot boomed in his authoritative voice.

"What?!" Turles bellowed and eyes widened in disbelief. His sudden outburst resulted him with an onslaught of continuous vicious hacking, his hand clutching his chest, "This doesn't -_wheeze_- warrant a -_wheeze_- fucking lock-up!" he yelled weakly and slammed a fist frustratingly into the metal wall he fell next to, further enlarging the existing dent.

Kakarot descended upon him with large, menacing strides. He gripped Turles by the armour's sleeves and yanked him upright, ignoring Turles' painful groans as he closed the gap between their faces.

"This woman is off limits and you need to learn your place," he spat in his twin's face, "If a lock-up is what it takes to drill that fact into your thick, empty skull then so be it. Next time, you're _finished_ but mark my words; _I won't be the one_ _to end your life_," he snarled in a low, menacing voice and then angrily shoved Turles away.

The tanned Saiyan stumbled unsteadily on his heels and into the front line of the crowd, still clutching his aching chest as he wheezed desperately to inhale precious air. He stared uneasily at his cousin, paling considerably at the underlying threat – he didn't need to be told exactly _who_ will be the one sending him into the next dimension.

Kakarot whipped around, glaring at the remainder of the crowd, "The same goes to the rest of you!" and then he turned to some of the guards in the crowd.

"You two! Give him an hour in the regen tank _and then_ take him away!" Kakarot barked before pivoting on his heel, storming past Raditz and towards the woman.

"Come now, Kakarot. He's fami-"

"Save it, Raditz! I _warned_ him, and now I'm _warning_ you. Get. out. of. my. way," Kakarot clipped through gritted teeth, grabbing hold of the woman's arm and dragging her out of the mess hall.

As the woman's cries of protest echoed in the hallways and then progressively faded off, Raditz shook his head with a frown and tuned the rest of the audience out. Soon after everyone dispersed, he took his leave and walked out of the cafeteria to find a secluded spot to brood. Judging from Kakarot's level of wrath and resentment for their cousin, he wouldn't expect to see Turles at least until planet fall; that is, _if_ that troublemaker was lucky enough to be freed _by planet fall_; which in this case was not happening for another month.

He sighed, rubbed his face, and thought, '_This is going to be a long trip back home._'

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**So, want more Kakarot, Turles, and/or Raditz? Let me know!**

**Remember to review! XD**


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter briefly explains why Kakarot is such a prick. But what a hot, sexy, manipulative prick.**

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The royal flagship was a colossal hunk of metal. It was pieced together to form a fierce battleship by some of the universe's best engineers. Granted, this wasn't the largest ship the Saiyans have, but it was built to fit two enormous landing docks that housed 600 space pods, 6 decks with 60 designated crew barracks for 900 quarters, two kitchens in all, one large mess hall, one royal apartment, and a massive command centre.

Only a thousand battle fleets could destroy this vessel, and even then, it still wouldn't be easy to put her down. Since the flagship was incredibly large, anyone who walked through these halls without paying enough attention could easily lose his or her way. It was like a colony in its own right.

After the incident in the cafeteria, Raditz left to roam these halls as he figured he needed some time alone to reflect on some things.

First, he thought about how a long way he has come in just a matter of months.

After settling in for nearly five months here, it was safe to say that he knew the place in and out. And like most Saiyans aboard, Raditz was not one to travel in such luxurious ships as opposed to his usual purging voyages via space pods. But when duty called to fight alongside his prince several months back, he immediately seized the chance and signed up for it. At that point of time, his Saiyan instincts only hoped for a battle worth his while.

After boarding the ship, he settled in and was instantly posted to Class B, along with Turles and most of his familiar comrades. Men and women alike became excited as they talked about finally getting the chance to fight next to the prince and super elites, and the possibility to display their full potential in hopes to get some sort of recognition out of it.

For the most part, things were going swell for them all; until one week later. Kakarot's second-in-command rounded up soldiers ranging from Class B and below and passed a touch-screen tablet to them all, finally disclosing a list of six months worth of assignments. After learning what they've been tasked to do and after perusing what they _anticipated_ to be a royal purging mission, 'disappointment' was an understatement.

Basically, soldiers of Class B and below were assigned to assist the super elites on their purges of 40 planets in a span of six months. However, the only catch was that only the super elites get to take on a bulk of the purging while the lower class soldiers were expected to hunt down a list of designated aliens from those planets. It was like killing two weaklings with one energy blast.

Raditz remembered staring at the listed aliens the prince was interested in obtaining. He was dumbfounded as he, Turles, and their comrades studied it. A total of a minimum 60 aliens were shortlisted and specified according to their planets, names, race, skin colour, skills, achievements, contributions, and super powers; all in that order. After studying the list and placing their task tablets down, they frowned at one another and began to question the motives of this mission because one little flaw just didn't add up.

Somehow, the prince wasn't interested in aliens with immense strengths. This baffled them so because this particular trait was not at the top of the list; but unless the rest of the traits didn't check out, then they were to capture the stronger aliens, if only to compensate for the lack of results.

Needless to say, the lower class fighters didn't take this letdown easy and rumours of the prince's failure to rule began to spread throughout the ship. Capturing wind of it and having none of that, the prince then publicly disclosed the true purpose of this mission, if only to ease their minds and his.

After finally being told of the deceit and treason of the Colds, the soldiers immediately changed their viewpoints. They finally came to understand the severity of this operation and their designated tasks. And so, they resumed their assignments with rage and newfound gusto.

For the sake and fate of their empire and planet, _everyone_ on this ship had an important role to play.

So here he was.

Raditz walked through the hollow halls of the ship, headed absolutely nowhere as his mind brought him back to the first 24 hours he set foot on this vessel. He recalled walking and joking with his cousin, Turles, as they both boarded with excitement. The anticipation for bloodshed grew; the Saiyans were ready and eager to commit massive genocides.

But since their prince gave them that little pep talk, and despite fully comprehending their roles, they still itched to join the super elites. As long as they were out of this ship on a foreign planet, and amidst all the unfolding terror, envy flowed through their bloods as they were reduced to standing by the sidelines and watching the bloodshed unfurl.

He sighed as he turned a corner, his feet moving on autopilot mode.

Then, he thought about his little brother, Kakarot – how much that boy has grown.

With Turles now locked up and Kakarot busy with his new _responsibility_, he'd most likely be alone until planet fall. After all, it wasn't like he spent most of his time with Kakarot. It has always been Raditz and Turles anyway. Kakarot was always busy and hardly ever joined them for anything anymore; it was like the youngest of the trio grew up and no longer needed the pack.

For as long as he could remember, his kid brother had always looked up to him. The boy would seek him out and sparred with him and he would teach him how to fight and be stronger. Kakarot had always been a mischievous boy, hell, they both were.

At the mere age of four and ten, going on missions were not on the forefront of their minds. So they were usually left at home to fend for themselves while their father went to work. The little devils destroyed everything they touched and made their marks everywhere they went.

Raditz gave a ghost of a smirk at that fond memory as he turned another corner.

Those were fun times, as long as they weren't destroying each other, which normally would end up having to involve their father.

Once, his old man came home after a purge to a house half destroyed. He blasted through the door in a panic and found both his sons going at each others' throats and guts, literally. He didn't know what caused the fight but he yelled at them to stop as he forcefully pried them apart by yanking at their unruly manes and tattered attires.

But when that failed, he merely blasted an airwave at Raditz to get him off of Kakarot. It wasn't damaging but it was enough to get the older boy to release his brother or to shut the latter's loud mouth up, whichever was desired at that time.

Raditz also recalled that was the day Turles came to live with them indefinitely. Despite being a ruthless warrior and father, his old man understood the differences between his job and family; hence he'd do his best to bind the family together as closely as he could. And because of this, his father had taken in his then eight-year-old nephew, Turles, after the boy's parents were killed in battle several days prior. From then onwards, the tanned youngling became part of the close-knit family.

And boy, were the old man's hands _tied_. As if two rascals weren't enough!

Raditz couldn't remember exactly how his father dealt with them, but at some point the old man was stern and strict enough to keep them all in line. Bad things only ever happened when his father went off-world, and when he returned, things usually went back to as normal as a Saiyan household could be. The trio would back each other up, lie, and fight for the other, all in a heartbeat. In other words, the three were closer than blood brothers. Childhood was the best thing to ever happen to them.

But years went by and they grew up.

At the age of twelve, Raditz was the first to leave home when he went on his first extended solo mission, called the Ninchi. It was a two-year programme for younglings who have come of age and were ready to hone their survival and battle skills on their own. Though the Ninchi was a gateway to promotion, it wasn't easy to pass. As such, it became an opportunity for these cubs to push to their limits and prove themselves worthy enough to be acknowledged.

At the same time, his father continued his purging duties and somehow learned to invent the Power Ball technique – an artificial moon harvested from the surrounding lights and elements that allowed the Saiyans to transform into their Oozaru forms without an actual moon. His old man was then instantly recognised for his intelligence thus was promoted to command the Elite Class B squad, on top of being rewarded the privilege to assist in the palace's Science and Technology Division.

Ever since Raditz left home, Kakarot and Turles nearly drowned themselves in training as they coped without the presence of their older brother. Days of fun were gone as Turles' prepared for his own Ninchi, dragging Kakarot along with him for companionship and as his designated sparring partner. The boys pushed themselves to the brink of exhaustion every day, hoping to one day achieve something. So while their father received recognition, Kakarot was also awarded his own.

During those months of absolute training, Kakarot grew stronger every day. At some point, he was even close to surpassing most of the super elites' children, a fact which didn't remain secret for long. One day, during a training session, the boy got himself involved in an all-out fight with an elite's teenaged son. The fight was short but nearly brutal for the young cubs. However, the teenager lost with a shattered spine while Kakarot came out practically unscathed.

Not to mention, the young boy let the teenager go without killing him.

Needless to say, Kakarot's audience was stunned into disbelief, not only by his sheer strength but also because he allowed that kid to live.

Shortly after, the story of the third class cub pummelling a teenaged elite and then showing the kid mercy travelled far and wide. This created an uproar amongst the elites until it finally reached the ears of the royals, King Vegeta and his young son.

Interests, questions, and brows raised, and soon the King decided to test the low class cub. He, the prince, and many other dignitaries wanted to see for themselves how exactly the son of a third class soldier, who was recently promoted, was able to surpass the son of an elite.

Was there foul play involved? What was his true power level? Was the brat stronger than the prince? Will he be a threat to the throne?

One night the royal guards paid Kakarot's humble little abode a visit. It was the night he was summoned to the palace. The boy was all smiles as they _cordially_ invited him, Turles, and their father to stay the night in the palace. Though the boys were gleefully oblivious, their father was suspicious.

The next morning, Kakarot was beckoned to the royal training grounds. Only his father was allowed to accompany him. There, they met with the King and young prince for the first time. Kakarot smiled brightly at his young superior in greeting while the young prince haughtily sneered at the peasants.

From what was retold to Raditz, Kakarot fought the prince in a hand-to-hand combat. The first fight lasted an hour and although he had his ass handed to him by the prince, Kakarot still managed to hold his ground till the end. After three intense sparring sessions of testing his agility, battle wits, and level of strength, a whole day has gone. By day's end, they concluded that Kakarot's power level was satisfactory, though nowhere near the prince.

Earning a nod of approval from the King and a half smirk from the young prince, the boy looked to his father and received a small smile of encouragement. And just like that, he was immediately assigned to guard the eight year-old prince. The young Saiyan, aged six then, moved into the palace and lived there ever since.

Smiling sadly at that last bitter thought, Raditz's mind wandered to his cousin.

The bulky Saiyan finally reached the door of his quarters. He stood in front of the metal platform and frowned at it before letting out a sigh. He then entered. He scanned his small quarters and took in all that was there. There wasn't much to see anyway. He took two large strides, reached the edge of his bed, and took a seat. Next to his bed, he stared at the empty, unmade bunk that belonged to Turles and thought, '_Fool. Always getting into trouble. One day, he's gonna get it.'_

He shook his head as he lied down. His eyes flew to the ceiling and he stared at it.

He recalled the time he returned home for his month-long break and spotted a ten-year-old Turles alone in the living room. For several weeks, his father was kept away to aid the palace's science laboratory. As no guests were allowed to go with him, the boy was left to fend for himself in their cosy little abode just on the outskirts of the city.

He found the boy lying on his stomach with his tail swaying lazily in the air. He noticed how Turles gazed emptily at the television screen, possibly indulging his favourite programmes without a thought in mind. The boy was quiet and distant. He didn't even greet Raditz.

The 14-year-old teenager knew then, that Turles was suffering from a severe lack of companionship. A boy his age shouldn't be deprived of attention or a proper upbringing, so Raditz made it a point to spend his month-long break training and teaching the boy all the new tricks he picked up during his Ninchi; and perhaps to rekindle the spark the boy once had.

This helped Turles as he began to open up once again, albeit at a slow pace. After spending nearly every hour eating, training, sparring, and fooling around for two weeks straight with his younger counterpart, Raditz came to realise that Turles was a talented fighter, but nonetheless a troubled child. How could he blame him? Detached from emotions and familial warmth, especially since the day his parents passed on in battle; it was no wonder that the child turned out dysfunctional.

But something happened along the way; for the first time since Turles came to live with them, he spoke of his parents. On the last day of Raditz's short-lived vacation, just hours before he had to leave home and return to continue the last quarter of his Ninchi, Turles spoke to him.

"_Hey, Raditz?" the boy called to him as he looked up from his plateful of food, "Is Kakarot ever gonna come home?"_

_The teenager stopped chewing on his lunch, bewildered by such an odd question. Not really looking at the boy, he frowned at the nearby blank television screen and stared at Turles' silhouette as he contemplated his answer, "I'm afraid I don't know," he answered and returned to his food._

_Then Turles' eyes glazed over at a distant memory, and a solemn expression marked on his face, "Like how Mama and Papa aren't coming home?"_

_Raditz looked up sharply, only to see the boy glaring hard at absolutely nothing from under his unruly bangs. He swallowed his food; awkward silence emanating in the small living room. Feeling the need to prevent his cousin from curling back into his shell, he sighed, "No, Turles. Not like them. It's different. Kakarot was called to serve the royals, usually when that happens you stay there indefinitely," he paused, then as an afterthought, "But he will be back... one day."_

"_Why couldn't I go with him? I could serve the royals, too."_

"_You have to be chosen by the royals to serve the royals," Raditz explained as his patience thinned, "That's how it is. Now eat your food; it's getting cold."_

That was the last of their conversation that day. When they bid their goodbyes, Raditz promised himself that when he returned, he would take care of the kid; come what may.

When he finally came home, having completed his Ninchi and was placed into the Class B squad, the two became closer again. Being in his late teens then, Raditz was a little bit more mature and more than capable to fend for himself and his cousin. His father's schedule became tighter with time, but he came home thrice a week for a check-in; although there wasn't much to worry about since Raditz was back indefinitely. The two boys would train, play, and eat together as long as Raditz was not off-world.

Turles never missed a day of training and he was growing exponentially. The boy trained hard every day, eager to surpass or even come close to both his cousins. All he ever wanted was to pass his Ninchi and prove himself capable, and then either join Raditz in his big boy missions or become someone important in the palace like Kakarot. It was his dream.

So when he turned twelve, he was finally assigned to his own Ninchi. Needless to say, he was the first low class Saiyan to succeed on the first try and in less than two years, too. All his effort, hard work, and dedication most certainly paid off. It was a proud day for the family when Turles returned home bearing good news. A big feast was called for that evening, and after a scrumptious meal, Raditz and his father gave the boy a smile, stroke his face, and ruffled his hair – an unusual gesture of acceptance, love, and pride.

Jumping with joy, he told about how his trainers awarded him with his first big boy mission and the privilege to fight alongside experienced squadrons. And in the next coming years, his power level continued to grow significantly until he was finally promoted and placed into the same squad as Raditz's. From then on, the two became just as close as before.

Ten years flew by in a blink of an eye, and the three Saiyans in question grew up in their own separate ways. As of today, their ages would be 21, 25, and 27, with Kakarot being the youngest.

Due to his ever-growing strength, Kakarot didn't need to undergo the Ninchi like the two. And while the older boys were promoted to the Elite class within those ten years, the youngest one dutifully remained at his prince's side.

The King passed on several months ago due to an unforeseen accident. No one really knew what happened exactly, or how his highness died; but rumour has it that he was poisoned.

A tragic, unhonourable death.

As such, there was no proper ascension to the throne for the prince. Now at age 23, the prince was forced to right the wrongs of the previous King. The Empire could either choose to pull out from their affiliation with the Cold Empire and become an independent body, or force a democratic system upon the nation for a better government; which also meant that the prince had to prove himself worthy to lead the entire Saiyan population. Either way, one thing was for sure – the Colds have to be out of the picture.

Stress and burden sat heavily on the young prince's shoulders, and continued to pile up with time. Not only did he see the need to scavenge the universe for competent scientists to match those of the Cold's, but he also had to keep the interests of his councilmen and people at bay. Time was wasting away. He needed to keep the Colds as far away as possible, and he needed to ascend to the throne soon, if only to keep all of his people in line.

That was how Kakarot came into play. Prince Vegeta learned long ago of Kakarot's impeccable skill. That Saiyan has a keen sense of logic, a savant strategist in every aspect. After a decade of being the prince's personal guard, he was immediately given the title of Royal Advisor right after the King's passing. And with this new title, Kakarot was able to display his crafty prowess and incredible strength. But in little less than a year after his promotion, the boy was on the road to forgetting his roots and has already begun growing into another person entirely.

On the other hand, Turles followed in on Raditz's footsteps. But unlike Raditz who was one to plan for the future, Turles was the kind that lived for the present. And unlike Kakarot, Raditz and Turles were aware of where they came from. However, Turles' dysfunctionality took a turn for the worse over the years; he hid away for long periods of time, refused to talk, was selectively civil at the best, and caused problems for the people around him; especially Kakarot.

Ever since they embarked on this mission, the three finally saw more of each other. Kakarot would still treat them both indifferently, while Raditz would try to strike as many conversations as he could and Turles… well, he continued to disrespect and rebel against his younger cousin at every given opportunity, usually putting Raditz in the middle of their childish rivalry.

At one point, Raditz wondered if his cousin's dysfunctional personality was subconsciously linked to Kakarot's. Being said, the older Saiyan knew he just couldn't allow this to blow out of proportion, no matter how trivial their fights were. He knew that the moment Kakarot has a good enough reason to retaliate, things wouldn't be pretty; at least for Turles. He had long ago accepted that he wasn't at their level of strength or genius, so usually he'd try talking Turles or Kakarot out of doing something drastic to the one another, if only to retain and hold onto what was left of their bond.

If anything, this mess hall incident had only worsened their already jeopardised familial bond. Somehow, he'd need to speak with Kakarot about this.

He sighed heavily, frowning as he curled on his side. It was hard being the eldest when you have to watch over delinquents like Kakarot and Turles. Regardless of their ages, his younger siblings were still considered pups in his eyes. He thought about his brother again; how far the boy has come and how much he has changed in a span of ten years.

Despite Kakarot's harsh judgements, and his manipulative and skewed methods in delivering his work, Raditz had no choice but to remind himself that his brother was only fulfilling his duty. Being the Royal Advisor was no easy task; responsibilities were direr and sacrifices must be made – even if it meant forsaking the people closest to you. And that was exactly what Kakarot did.

An unusual fleeting sense of longing crossed Raditz. His chest tightened and he frowned. What he wouldn't give to have his little brother back. Even when he lost the chance to grow up with him, he wished Kakarot would occasionally listen to his brotherly advices or talk about their failures and achievements in life and relationships every once in a while.

He sighed again and got up, finally remembering to remove his armour, gloves, and boots, followed by his spandex suit before donning a more comfortable sleepwear. He climbed into bed again and turned the lights off this time. Closing his eyes, he'd almost immediately succumbed to slumber with a foreboding feeling tugging on the edges of his conscious mind.

Ultimately, he would give almost _anything_ to have his own flesh and blood spare him a glance, just one glance, whenever they walked by one another in the hallway.

* * *

Kakarot stormed towards his quarters with the woman in tow. As he reached their destination, he slammed his palm onto the touch-sensor panel that was integrated into the side wall. Once the light turned green and beeped, the door slid open and he entered the premise before flinging the woman towards the bed. She managed to gain her balance and quickly recomposed herself. Then she spun on her heel and exploded in a raging fit.

"Why did you beat that guy up? He's your cousin!"

"Do I look like someone who cares about something insignificant like that?" he questioned as he focused on dusting his gloves as if whatever happened in the mess hall was an everyday, trivial event.

The woman sputtered speechlessly. She was in stunned disbelief. _Who the hell beats up their own family member and not give a damn?!_

But when she couldn't find the words to refute, he spoke, "But if you must know, beating Turles up was not a spur-of-the-moment thing," he stated and smirked when her eyes widened with surprise, "In fact, just by being in the wrong place at the wrong time, he has helped me solve two of my biggest problems. And if it wasn't him, it would have been another guy."

Her brows scrunched in confusion, "I... I don't understand. Why hit someone without a reason? What problems are you talking about? And back there..." she asked exasperatedly, her eyes widened with worry as she gestured towards the door, "Why did you say that I belong to the prince?"

"Let me put it this way. Whatever is going to happen to Turles is none of your business. And what you witnessed earlier is to keep you both in line and out of trouble. Not that I need to ever explain anything to you," he sneered as he looked at her from head to toe, "And whatever the prince does, no one questions – if that's what he wants, that's what he gets."

"Well, if it involves me, I think I have the right to know!" she chided, her cheeks puffed in anger and her fists planted firmly on her hips.

"No, you don't," Kakarot corrected her, "That's just how things work around here and you'd better get used to it," he said firmly and turned to walk away.

"H-hey, where are you going? You can't just leave right now. I want answers, dammit!"

"I'm leaving you here; and I can; and no, you don't need to know," Kakarot rebutted as he stopped in his tracks. He turned to her and ordered, "And you will remain in this room till we reach our destination, unless told otherwise."

"But why? Why go through all that just to keep me out of trouble? _Why am I even here_?!" she shrieked as she flailed her arms wildly.

Kakarot ignored her outburst, which only served to aggravate the earthling further. She began to pace the floor in a disorientated manner, cursing and demanding for answers. He faced her pointedly with his scouter directed her way. With a few taps of his finger on the side button, the device recorded her power level and stored it in the tracking folder. Like this, Kakarot would be able to track her down using his scouter with only a press of a button, no matter where he went.

"It is clear by now that you do not take orders well," he growled and glared at her. Once again, he could feel his patience thinning, so long as her mouth remained open. He couldn't imagine how it would turn out when she and his prince finally meet.

The woman scoffed and folded her arms, "Great observation skills, Mister. If that annoys you so much maybe you should quit ordering me around!" she quipped as she huffed and rolled her eyes.

He scowled and folded his arms, bending low to level with her height, "Listen here, Earthling," he seethed as his nostrils flared, complementing the angry wrinkles between his brow, "I will _readjust_ your insolent behaviour and I won't go easy on you..." he growled through gritted teeth and sent her a hardened glare, "... If only to put you in your place before _he_ finally speaks with you. And _If_, God forbid, you run off at the mouth in his presence, just know that I will be there to stare into your helpless, _pleading_ eyes as I say '_I told you so_' seconds before he ends you."

The woman didn't need Kakarot to tell her who this '_he_' was; she was smart enough to figure that part out on her own. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to believe that this Saiyan prince could be as terrible as Kakarot portrayed him to be. In fact, she couldn't believe that _anyone_ could commit such terrible acts.

But then again, these were _Saiyans_. Not _Humans_.

The 'Turles incident' was living proof that Saiyans were barbarians.

And with that said, he pivoted on his heel and walked towards the door. He tapped the touch-sensor panel on the side and the hinges hissed. The metal door slid open and Kakarot stormed through it. He turned to glance once at the woman, who was stubbornly glaring at him, before readjusting the pin code on the side door panel.

"You can remain here, keep a low profile, and stay alive; or you can find a way to bypass this code and put yourself at risk," he offered, "However, do remember this – the beatings or deaths of those who so much as touch you the wrong way will be piled on your conscience," he warned and then flashed a wicked smirk, "It is your choice."

Then he pushed the button to close the door, not leaving any room for argument.

The woman's eyes bulged the second the door slid shut and her shrieks echoed the room.

Standing on the outside with a deep scowl on his face, Kakarot glared at the closed door with a vengeance – as if that door was the woman. The pounding of the door made his nerves jump and he inwardly cringed at her muffled vulgar screaming.

In that moment, two unfortunate soldiers who were on their shift patrolling the ship whisked by the hallway and slowed down upon seeing the Royal Advisor. They cautiously took in the anguish written on the Kakarot's side profile and swallowed apprehensively. Their superior looked as if he was in deep thought. Nevertheless, they did a half bow with a fist on the right side of their chest plates as they passed, dutifully ignoring the apparent screaming that was emanating from behind the closed door.

Kakarot took this second to acknowledge the two soldiers. He turned his head a miniscule angle to the right and glared at their backs. No hint of recognition played in his eyes as he stared at the low class warriors; these were soldiers who would not be missed.

"Guards," he called firmly to them. The nameless Saiyans did a 180-degree turnabout and looked at the prince's advisor expectantly.

A tinge of fear flowed through their bodies and chills rolled down their spines as Kakarot glared at them in ghastly silence. Rumours travelled fast on the ship, and after getting wind of what happened to Turles earlier, it would be unwise to trigger the volatile Saiyan.

Kakarot lifted two fingers and motioned them to step forward. They gulped but approached him regardless.

"How may we be of assistance, sir?" one of them inquired respectfully.

"Guard this door," the veins in Kakarot's neck bulged and strained as he ordered, "_No one_ comes out or goes in this room, understand?"

The soldiers saluted him in silent understanding and moved to guard the door on each respective side of the frame. Once in positions, they quietly released the breath they were holding.

"If _anyone_ attempts to enter or exit, even if it is the prince," the intimidating man continued as he sent them another hardened glare, "Inform me _immediately_." And without further instructions, Kakarot spun on his heel and stormed away. There were some things he needed to take care of before meeting the prince.

* * *

**Her POV**

Claustrophobia.

One of my many weaknesses.

I hate corners, tight spaces, and especially _restrictions_.

It has been an hour since Kakarot left me in what I've come to realise just ten minutes was _his_ quarters. When he left, I became furious and went practically ballistic. I couldn't stop pounding on the the locked door as I shrieked at the top of my lungs and demanded to be set free. But then I quieted down as I realised he wasn't going to come back. I simply leaned against the door and slid to the floor in a broken heap. I sniffled, hugging my knees and burying my into them. I wept like a pitiful, little child.

Yes, that was an hour ago and I am still sulking at the same spot. I look up to the door behind me and stare at the security panel on the side. It was easy to contemplate cracking the code and then go hide somewhere; anywhere but here. But then it became rather difficult when Kakarot's warning, more like threat, rang aloud in my head. I couldn't stop his condescending, manipulative words from replaying like a broken record. So I shut my eyes and quickly vanquish the urge to escape. If it comes back later, I'd deal with it again... somehow. I just don't want to be caught in the midst of a thousand Saiyans, and I especially don't wish for anyone to get hurt... or die because of me. But then again... I am no martyr.

I whimper in frustration, allowing tears to fall which progressively transformed into tears of helplessness as the sense of abandonment in me grew. I'm alone again, this time in a dark, foreign place, among faces and species I am not familiar with and don't know about. I scan the dimly lit room, which corners are illuminated by the lone ceiling fluorescent light panel. In my state of fear, I eye the dark and obscure corners with untold apprehension. I take a look out the large picture window just a little further over the bed, but there was nothing to see – only the darkness of space. I hear myself chuckling bitterly at the irony of my situation. Oh, how my life has changed. Not even the wonders of the universe and space-travelling could excite the curious scientist in me like they should.

This startling revelation only made my chest tighten even more.

Shaking the pain away, I push myself up from the floor and approach the large porthole. With teary eyes, I take in the endless nothingness as my mind figuratively wander into space. I am no longer on Earth; no longer in the comforts of my home or the company of my loved ones. My world has gone, and so has my life. I turn to look at the locked door and then drop my gaze to the double bed in the centre of the room. My heart tightens into a knot and that's when I knew... a part of me has already accepted my fate. At this, I lower my head in utter dejection.

Here, I am not an Earthling; but an alien. I am not a scientist; but a slave.

Among these Saiyans, I am _nobody_; and would be until I prove these sons of bitches otherwise.

'_Disclose your full potential_,' I remember Kakarot's words now. I scowl. How clear they resonate in the confinements of my mind.

"I'll show you Saiyans what _full potential_ is," I hiss out loud, promising myself with voice laden with vengeance. I feel my eyes glaze over with untold rage as I gaze back into the blackness of space, "I'll be the best damned thing to ever grace your lives. You will _never_ be able to live without my existence. I will be the best mistake you Saiyans will ever make."

I angrily wipe the tear stains off my cheeks and without a thought, storm into the bathroom. I scramble through all the drawers I could find and rifle through each and every one of them, in search of a sharp-edged object. A shine caught the corner of my eye and I finally found what I was looking for; a razor-like blade. My eyes gleam with a hint of morbid fascination and a small smile grace my lips as I stare intently at it.

Then I walked numbly to the front of the sink and took a long, hard look at myself in the wide mirror. It has been days since I last looked at my own image; and I was completely horrified with what was staring back at me.

In just a few days of terror, my cheeks were already hollow; a clear indication of my lack of nourishment. My bottom lip was torn in the middle, thanks to that bastard who split them, and no thanks to him it is now healing just fine on its own. Dark eye bags encircled the bow under my eyes, making me look like I've aged a decade. At these, I cringe.

But among the rapid changes I see, I'd have to say what makes my chest tighten the most are the absent eyes of an innocent 22-year-old girl that no longer existed; where my lively and vibrant eyes used to be are now replaced by a pair of hardened, glazed-over blue orbs that have seen only hardship, anger, pain, and death.

I yank on my hair tie and allow my blue tresses to flow freely down my back. The tips of my hair reach the arc of my waist like a graceful stream, only without its once glorious shine. Then I grab a handful of hair from my nape and twirl it to the front. Mindlessly, I sift my fingers through them slowly and longingly as I quietly admire the asset that once defined who I was.

Then I clench my teeth and take in a deep breath. Without another thought, I set the sharp edges of the blade against my locks at shoulder length and chop them off without hesitation. I whimper and sniffle in frustration as I cut them. I kept on cutting until all I could see was an entirely different and new me.

Then I allow myself a few moments of silence. I stare intently at myself in the mirror. For a second there, I blanched at the sight of my ugly, jagged, and uneven locks. They fall ungracefully just above my shoulders. I could feel hot tears begin to form in my eyes; they blurred my vision. The corners of my lips begin to tremble and I could feel my resolve slowly dwindling away. The blade slips from my shaking fingers and slides into the sink, instantly forgotten. Then I release a broken sob as I finally break down at my own reflection – at the person that life and destiny has forced me to become.

* * *

The command centre was the nerve-centre of the flagship, flanked by thousands of monitoring controls and blinking lights all over the side walls and in the back of the room. These controls were supervised by professional pilots, coordinators, and commanding officers who were personally handpicked and trained to fly the royalties.

In the centre of the room facing an immense, sweeping porthole was a large command chair. Examining reports, charts, and all kinds of data sheets on an expansive touch-screen padded surface, Prince Vegeta sat behind the desk with a relaxed demeanour.

Planet Earth was the last targeted star on the invasion list. And ever since the fleet left the blue and green mud ball, Prince Vegeta was unusually easily sidetracked. His gut kept telling him that something was amiss. This, he was sure of and yet he couldn't put a finger to it. It felt as if the earth woman he captured could prove to be something worthwhile.

He scowled absentmindedly and debated with himself, '_My personal slave? Or my pleasure slave? … My personal pleasure slave._' He smirked evilly at that thought but quickly regained his regal composure the second the door of the command centre slid open.

In came Kakarot who walked to the side control panels to speak to the commanding officer. He requested for a full report on all that has happened in the hours of his absence. He was, after all, still the Royal Advisor and second in command, despite being temporarily relieved of his duties. Nodding his head in understanding, he conversed softly to the officer as he absorbed all information. After receiving all that he needed to know, he turned to approach his boss.

He took a stand next to the commanding chair and saluted his superior. Though the advisor's presence was acknowledged, Prince Vegeta continued to ignore him as he maintained his focus on the reports and charts sprawled on his glass-tempered touch-screen desk. Kakarot merely stood by his side and patiently waited. It was simply a show of superiority; _let your minions wait on you_.

And so a brief moment of silence flowed through them. Prince Vegeta flicked away the data sheets on the desk, his mind not exactly digesting any information. But when he decided to speak to his advisor, he did so softly and without turning to face him.

"I heard word about a commotion in the cafeteria," he stated as his gloved fingers pulled out another data sheet out of a folder.

"Yes, there was a small scuffle," Kakarot confirmed, "A second-class soldier caused a little trouble but that's been taken care of," he explained as he eyed his superior cautiously.

The prince was quiet for awhile. He knew exactly what and who caused the fight because his source had reported it the moment it happened. At that time, he merely nodded and dismissed the messenger without taking action against the brawl. He was clever to keep quiet on this, mostly because trivial matters of his inferiors were none of his concern.

On the other hand, the failure of his advisor in producing an immediate full report on this issue was posing to be a problem.

"You were involved. Was there a reason as to why you have neglected reporting this to me?" the prince questioned in a lax yet intimidating manner.

"I assure you that it wasn't negligence, sire. There were just some things that I needed to take care of first; namely, the Earth woman."

The prince's ears perked and he gave his advisor his full attention. He stared at the man for a brief moment as he studied the scars on Kakarot's forehead and cheeks. A brow lifted as a curious expression marked his face, "Elaborate."

Kakarot cleared his throat and proceeded to explain, "The woman is human; therefore she's prone to expressing emotions from as harmless as submissiveness to the highest level of detrimental rage. She's a volatile creature with emotions that tend to fluctuate on a rapid basis, depending on the situation she is in. But even in anger or sorrow, she is not without a conscience," he said as an eye twitched in mild aggravation, "I took note of her behaviour because it was rather... peculiar, perhaps borderline bipolar. Despite that and regardless of her pitiful physical strength, her weakness is compensated by her apparent genius. In other words, under a mask of sweetness and benevolence, she can be cunning, manipulative, apathetic, and lethal at the same time."

Scratching the arc of his throat with a gloved finger, Prince Vegeta turned to stare off into the blackness of space through the giant porthole as he contemplated all that his advisor had just said.

"Are all humans the same?" he asked quietly.

"Fortunately, no. Earlier, I've pulled a file on the humans. I did a close case study on their anatomies, behaviours, traits, and the like, hoping to find something significant about their race but nothing too drastic came up. They're all weak and powerless, some intelligent and talented, some not at all. Bottom line is, they're... clean."

"Too clean," the prince murmured as his dark eyes glazed over, deep in thought, "Perhaps they're hiding something. For some reason, that human Briefs wasn't even detectable. Their technology must be more advanced than we initially thought."

"And based on your great foresight, we left the planet intact. We will return to hunt the scientist down in a couple of months' time."

"Unless the old bastard died before the search..." the prince tipped his head to the side and glared at Kakarot through the corner of his eyes, "... or during."

The taller man cleared his throat in response, "We have attained many more useful captives in the last several months. All with near-similar levels of intelligence to that of the human scientist, and some even with super powers. One less wouldn't make a difference, sire. Besides, according to his profile, he is old by human standards and not to mention powerless. He wouldn't have lasted very long on Vegetasei if we had found him and took him back with us."

"Hn," Prince Vegeta grumbled an agreement, his interest in the human scientist dissipated as he thought of another human, "Have you interrogated _her_?"

"No, not yet. I see the need to first gain her trust-"

"Trust?" the prince looked up sharply at the man and cut him off, "She's a weakling! Bend her to your will, I don't care how, use force if you must," he growled at Kakarot as he saw there was no need to waste precious time in keeping a weak human's interest at bay.

Slightly taken aback, Kakarot countered and firmly refuted, "My apologies, sire, but with this one, I highly suggest that we use her emotions against her. It seemed to have worked perfectly fine the last time."

"What happened the last time?" his royal highness sneered.

"She was out of control – uncontrollable rage, mostly – but I've subdued her some by sending her on a guilt trip. She seems to be devoid of guile or contempt where the welfare of another is concerned."

The prince scoffed and rolled his eyes. He finally understood how the scars on Kakarot's face came about, but not in the way he thought. The woman didn't care about Kakarot's face when she attacked him then. She wouldn't have cared if she gorged his eyes out at the time. The reason why she backed off in the first place was because Kakarot mentioned a faceless man; a man who was willing to sacrifice his own life for the greater good.

"And not all humans are like that, too?"

"No, prince. Not all," Kakarot reconfirmed.

"So we captured a diabolic saint. _Great_..." the prince growled in aggravation as he turned away, but looked back at Kakarot just as quickly, "Why the need to gain her trust? What the hell can that blasted woman offer that I don't already have?"

"Well, before I answer your questions, there are just some things I'd like to be clear of..." Kakarot murmured and trailed off as he took a moment to collect his thoughts.

"Take your time, because I have a lot of it," propping his head on a gloved fist, the prince grumbled sarcastically as he sneered at Kakarot with hooded eyes and a bored expression.

The taller Saiyan cleared his throat again and leaned down closer to his prince's side, "Perhaps we should have this conversation in private?" he whispered in a low voice.

The prince scowled in irritation and growled 'fine'. He got up from his seat and stomped out of the control room, his royal cape whipping fiercely at his calves with Kakarot in tow.

* * *

The two dignitaries strode towards the prince's personal chambers with haste. In a matter of minutes, they reached a tall, sweeping door that only the prince had access to. They entered and the first thing Vegeta went for was his personal bar. The shelves of the bar were home to only the finest, most exclusive wine obtained from high-end planets; and a bottle of dark, blood-red elixir was what the prince fancied at the moment.

He poured a glass for himself and took a swig, then poured another round before shoving the bottle into Kakarot's hand. The taller man could pour himself some if he so wished. Once they were sure all doors were locked and they were alone, all formalities went out of the window.

"What the fuck is so important that we have to talk in private?" Vegeta demanded to know as he walked to the back of the room where a large working desk, much like the one in the control room but less advanced, sat. He slinked gracefully into the seat and leaned back, the full glass of wine in hand and a scowl on his face.

"The woman, that's what," Kakarot replied in an unpleasant tone, his patience running just as low, "You know, my judgements are hardly ever wrong, and I'm telling you that woman is dangerous," he said as he poured himself a glass.

"Dangerous, how?" Vegeta took a sip and glared at his friend from under his brow.

Kakarot began to pace the room, setting Vegeta even closer on edge.

"Will you stop moving, you're giving me a headache!" the prince growled.

"Right," the taller Saiyan mumbled as he stopped pacing and took a seat at the front of the desk. He placed his glass on the table and rubbed the back of his nape, a quirk that he does only in Vegeta's presence, which the prince never liked since their adolescent years, "Before I tell you why I think she is dangerous, I'd like to know why you captured her."

Kakarot glanced at his closest friend with baited breath, but Vegeta only stared back with his staple stoic expression. The younger Saiyan rolled his eyes and frowned, "Look, Vegeta. Clearly the woman is appealing," he commented as he gauged Vegeta's reaction; all he got was a minute twitch of an eye, "But is that it?"

Vegeta groaned inwardly, not really wanting to tell him the truth. But he knew Kakarot like the back of his gloves; the Saiyan would stop at nothing until he confessed. True, that fool was mostly never wrong in his judgements, and what made it intolerable was that the bastard _knew_ it. In spite of that, it was one of the few reasons why Vegeta kept him close and made him his right hand.

But now the prince was annoyed. He frowned as he recalled the time when he assigned the woman to Kakarot back when they were still on earth.

'_So, I was right then. Kakarot __**does**__ find her alluring, too_,' he scoffed inwardly what man wouldn't, right? _'And why would that buffoon care if I captured an alien woman anyway?'_

"When I stumbled upon her, she seemed different from other humans, not counting her appearance," Vegeta murmured, to which Kakarot nodded in response.

"I agree. There's more to her than meets the eye. She's definitely hiding something," Kakarot said conspicuously.

"Why don't you make yourself useful and drill whatever the hell she's hiding out of her?" Vegeta sneered, lifting a brow as he sent Kakarot a hardened glare.

"Nah, I'd much rather leave that to you," Kakarot replied with a smirk and stated suggestively, "Why don't you _drill _her, eh?"

The two friends snickered, not missing the innuendo heavily laced in their words as they talked about the Earth woman so casually.

"She is feisty," Vegeta murmured as he brought his glass to his lips; his mind playing the scenes from his recent encounter with the earthling.

"And a handful... _but_ _with claws_," Kakarot sneered as he mindlessly traced the scars on his face. Though they were already healing, he was still figuratively sore that someone as weak as her managed to mar him so.

"I _did_ warn you," Vegeta chuckled evilly as he leaned forward. Propping his forearms on the table ledge, he laced his fingers together and smirked, "I never thought I'd live to see you get wounded by a weakling. Her power level was, what(?), only a measly two. Ha!"

Kakarot glared as Vegeta teased him, but otherwise said nothing about it, "I think she owned me, though. She refused to listen or take orders from me and she kept harping on and on about how I was beneath her. She wouldn't even tell me anything!" he growled and grumbled '_that fucking wench_' under his breath.

"It's like she was used to life in court or the elite class or something, but definitely of great social status where she finds it especially necessary to boss everybody around," Kakarot remarked and looked pointedly at Vegeta, "After all, she does come off as an intelligent being, so she could be someone important on her home planet; like a leader of a high society but judging from her quick-witted speeches, she could even be a professor, politician, or scientist. Which is why we have to find out what it is and exploit that; and to do so, we have to get her on our side _on_ _her own will_."

Vegeta blinked and leaned back as he contemplated what the man said.

"I've locked her up in my quarters. If she can find a way to get through the codes, then our suspicions are confirmed," Kakarot stated as he gave Vegeta one last mental push to sanction his plot so he could set his interrogation plan in motion.

The prince nodded absentmindedly and Kakarot smirked knowingly but inwardly to himself. These were times when his pride was worst than Vegeta's. And after a brief moment, Vegeta came to a decision.

"Fine. Whether she unlocks the door or not, go gain her trust and find out what she can do, but otherwise keep her in line and _do not_ give in to her demands. She is in no position to do so and be sure that she knows it," the prince commanded in a deep, authoritative voice, and continued, "I will step in when it's time," to which Kakarot nodded in understanding. He _loved_ his _job_.

The Saiyans quieted as they sipped on their drinks in silence, both thinking about the matter at hand. As Kakarot brewed questions and game plans in his head, those which he would be using on the woman to debunk their suspicions of her, Vegeta wondered what had happened between the two as he eyed the fairer Saiyan carefully.

Judging from the scratches on Kakarot's face, he began to assume the worst and realised that he didn't quite like the lewd images that popped up in his head. And with Kakarot being deep in thought, possibly thinking about the woman albeit not in a suggestive way, he still found himself annoyed, territorial even.

"Report all that you find by the week's end," Vegeta growled as he gulped down the remainder of his drink. Standing up, he walked around the table to Kakarot's side and rested a fist on the table in front of the man. He glared down and spoke in a low, grating voice, "Play your cards right," he warned as he sent Kakarot a piercing glower, "And don't forget who _owns_ the both of you."

With that said, the prince strode away and headed back towards the control centre, leaving Kakarot in his royal study to register the true meaning behind his words.

* * *

**Ninchi means 'recognition' in Japanese.**

**Well, how was that? This chapter is exceptionally long, IT'S OVER 9,000! words. I'm beat. Anyway, anyone wanna beta this story? Lemme know!**

**Read and review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Quotes read, written, found, typed, and used in this chapter are not mine. Please do not sue me. I has no monies.**

**Warning: A glimpse into my mind, my definition of what **_**mild **_**gore is: graphic parts somewhere in the second scene. You have been warned.**

**Tip: It is advisable to be Saiyan enough to read through, or read it with your ears closed. Else don't.**

* * *

_Is compromise something you don't understand?_

_You force your hand but my eyes are wide open;_

_Caught in the web of your self-serving plan;_

_Don't force my hand when my eyes are wide open._

_**Eyes Wide Open - Staind**_

* * *

'_Don't forget who owns the both of you.'_

The prince's words replayed in Kakarot's head like an annoying broken record. For some reason, that single sentence irked him more than ever this time around. He shook his head as he turned the last corner which led him to the mess hall.

The large dent he put Turles through earlier was no longer there, possibly fixed by the repairmen onboard. That little incident with his cousin has put his meal on hold, and now he was hungry again. His Saiyan appetite wouldn't allow him to rest until food graced his stomach walls.

Kakarot waltzed into the cafeteria in his usual imperious stance. He stopped and stared at the crowd the second he stepped in, took in the faces of the soldiers, ignored them, and made a composed beeline towards the food counter. Unfortunately for the man, no food was left since his departure from the fight, but the cook was quick-minded as he requested from Kakarot a 20-minute pardon just so he could whip something up. The Royal Advisor nodded his head and turned to look for a seat while the cook scurried off to fix him a meal or two, or five.

Because there was no concept of night and day in space, most Saiyans onboard didn't know whether they should come or go. However, the moment they took one look at Kakarot, they knew it was high time to _go_, thus, leaving the normally crowded cafeteria with only a handful of people.

Kakarot sat at the table nearest to the food counter, which was also furthest away from the rest of the occupants in the area. He saw no reason to associate with these soldiers at this point of time; not while his head was flooded with questions, problems, and stuff.

As his mind wandered off, his fingers involuntarily played with the sauce bottle that was within his reach. He twirled the object around on the surface as he deciphered the true meaning behind his prince's words and why they bothered him so. And what vexed him even more was the fact that he knew exactly why they even bothered him at all.

Yes, the woman belonged solely to Prince Vegeta; there was no doubt about what lay in store for her in the near future. On the other hand, he was Kakarot – the nation's leader's advisor; the mastermind behind every game plan, every political meeting, every well-versed speech, and every battle of the mind and body. Though the prince was equally as cunning, if not more, Kakarot was still his puppet in every sense. But the prince didn't exactly control him, never mind own him. In fact, the prince _needed_ him more than the other way around. So, no; the prince didn't _own_ him.

Furthermore, he knew it was merely a reminder from his prince to ensure that he kept his hands to himself where the woman is concerned. Not that there was anything wrong with it as he just wasn't particularly attracted to her in any way. That Earthling was more of a thorn on his side and she would be glad to shower him with problems just by spelling 'trouble' backwards.

The sounds of squeaking wheels and clanking metals snapped Kakarot out of his musings as the cook approached him with a trolley of food. Grilled juicy slabs of meat piled upon one another, enticing his taste buds as his eyes feasted upon them. His senses picked up the swaying smoke that wafted out of bowls of piping hot soup, making his stomach growl with anticipation. Oh, was he hungry!

He gorged down his food in an instant, grunting incoherently at the cook as he sent him away. Kakarot always found it enjoyable whenever he ate alone; not only because he didn't have to share his food, it was also usually a very enlightening experience. It was times like these that he would allow himself to replay past battle scenes, find faults and flaws in his fighting stances, conjure up weird battle plans and strategies in his head, or remembering his last several sexual romps. In other words, he liked his privacy a lot – and preferably not invaded.

Being deep in thought, Kakarot hadn't heard the door to the mess hall slide open. Nor had he heard the shuffling footsteps that were quickly approaching him. A man slinked into the chair across from Kakarot, catching him off guard but he was not entirely disturbed by the sudden intrusion. The fair Saiyan swallowed his food dry as he looked up at his intruder, not the least bit surprised to see who it was.

"Hello, Kakarot," greeted the man courteously.

"H'lo," he replied curtly as he returned his focus to his food. He deliberately ignored the man who was currently invading his personal space.

Mildly agitated, the man frowned, "Is this any way to greet your brother?"

Hunching over his plate, Kakarot watched Raditz carefully from under his tousled bangs. Sensing no contempt accompanying his brother's condescending question, he straightened up, swallowed his food, and cleared his throat.

"Were you looking for me?" Kakarot asked quietly as he resumed eating upright at a slower and more composed pace.

"… Maybe," Raditz shrugged, trying hard to come off as indifferent if only to agitate Kakarot the way he'd agitated him. But Kakarot wasn't one to be trifled with, nor would petty ignorance like this affect him.

"Well, make up your mind," the younger Saiyan scoffed, stuffing a forkful of meat into his mouth as he turned his focus back to his meal and subtly showing his brother how to play the indifferent game.

"Do I need a reason to talk to you?" Raditz questioned as he stared at his brother with calculative eyes. He had hoped for an answer but when he didn't get one, not even a glance, he frowned and continued, "They put Turles into the isolation cell ten minutes ago. He isn't completely healed; you've broken him too much. I just thought you should know."

"He'll heal on his own. Besides, he's weak," Kakarot grumbled in between bites; his interest in the welfare of his cousin was almost non-existent.

Raditz frowned harder at his brusque reaction. Quietly disapproving with his hardened gaze, he countered through clenched teeth, "He's not weak and you _know_ it. He knew he didn't stand a chance against you. It was clearly a one-sided fight and yet he fought you still. You, on the other hand, knew he would lose and you toyed with him; humiliated him. I'd want to believe that there's more to it than just that female, so don't let me make unnecessary assumptions. How about you tell me what is really going on, because I'd like to know _why_."

Kakarot stared at his brother with his well-perfected court mask as he debated if he should set things clear between them. And so he gave himself the ten-second decision-making rule.

"I don't have to tell you anythi-"

"Oh, cut the crap, Kakarot!" Raditz growled as he cut him off, displaying outright contempt and disbelief for Kakarot's behaviour for the first time in years, "Is that a scripted line you say to anyone who actually gives a damn about whatever the hell you're up to? Why don't you tell me something that I don't already know since the day you left home, huh?"

A minute of silence graced the thick air around them, and then Kakarot spoke quietly, "What's gotten into you, Raditz?"

"What's gotten into me? There's nothing wrong me," the older Saiyan scoffed and in all seriousness said, "But I'm afraid I can't say the same for you, little brother."

Kakarot scoffed, rolled his eyes, and smirked, "Enlighten me, then. How do you think I should lead my life because for the love of every Saiyan deity, I have no fucking idea how to," he quipped and mocked, angering Raditz further.

"See, that's exactly what your problem is!"

"You know, for someone as intelligent as I am, I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about."

"_Ignorance!_ – That's your problem. You just don't care about anything or anyone but yourself. You have so much self-importance that you overlook everything else around you. Believe me, I know how seriously you take your job, but what you don't realise is that you're also pushing away those who actually gives a shit about you."

Kakarot quieted as he allowed his brother's words to hang in the air like a dark cloud. And when they finally settled and dissipated into thin air, he leaned a little forward over the table. His face darkened a deeper shade as he stared pointedly at Raditz, all sentimental indications from his brother forgotten.

"I'm afraid you're only half correct," he countered calmly, "I'm clearly aware of everything that goes on around me. It isn't ignorance when you choose not to care. I don't _need_ anybody," he finished unremorsefully.

Raditz leaned forward, too. Glaring at his brother, he sneered, "You're a _liar_."

Kakarot laughed at his incredulous remark, mentally pushing away the slight prick that was poking at the surface of his inflated ego caused by Raditz's remark, "I am the Royal Advisor and the strongest Saiyan second only to his majesty; and I alone am bigger and more powerful than all of you on this ship combined. I most certainly do not need anybody."

Angered at Kakarot's reply, Raditz snarled, "Open your eyes, Kakarot, and look at these people!" he hissed as he gestured a hand towards a group of oblivious soldiers seated in the far corner of the hall, who Kakarot did not even spare a glance for, "Do you even know their names; much less recognise their faces? _No, of course not_ – you don't even give them a second glance. These people are your soldiers; people who mindlessly listen to you as you command them because they are your _inferiors_; people who dutifully follow you into battle despite having absolutely no idea who you truly are – _Turles is_ _not one of these people_; he is _your cousin – _and I am _your_ _brother_!"

Raditz took in exasperated, sharp breaths as he settled down to calm his seething soul. He stared down at Kakarot as he gauged for any sort of reaction. But the younger Saiyan was just as stoic as he always has been, and it was then Raditz knew that Kakarot was beyond redemption. He sighed inwardly and pulled back to look at his estranged brother.

"I just want to know… do you see us the same way you see them, Kakarot?" he asked softly, almost sadly.

Kakarot merely stared at his brother, a bored, serious expression devoid of any emotion plastered on his face; not even a twitch.

Raditz sighed and shook his head disappointedly as he looked away from his brother's piercing, darkened orbs, "You have changed. In your eyes, we have become nothing but one of your inferiors," he stated quietly, allowing his words to sink in. Then he looked back at him and said, "Perhaps you're right, you don't need anybody. You most certainly do not need us."

And with that, he got up and stormed away without a backward glance.

* * *

Breaking into rooms secured with code locks required hacking skills, memorising the place you're infiltrating, understanding your mission, and most importantly; stealth. There was only one thing to be mindful of, however – never to get caught when you leave.

Back on Earth, the woman has broken into rooms with code-locked doors. In fact, too many rooms to count especially since her father used to restrict her from going into many of his private, secret labs. Therefore, at the tender age of ten and as a young girl with a curious and intelligent mind, she picked up such a skill using the most minimalistic tools she could find; and has been breaking into uncharted territories all her life, whenever necessary.

The only difference now was that it wasn't breaking into a room that she was trying to accomplish, but breaking out of it. Who knew what lies beyond this door?

However, her fear of the unknown certainly didn't stop her from trying to unlock the door using the blade she found earlier. But for safety's sake, she secured a common 9-milimetre beretta in the holster of her hip belt.

Lucky for her, she has kept several spare capsules on her person throughout the invasion; mostly containing clothes, personal possessions, and several precious key blue prints of her father's inventions. A bulk of her specially-made guns were lost and ruined from that encounter with the flame-haired bastard; but she was fortunate enough to find the only weapon left hidden beneath a pile of clothes. For now, a handgun would have to do.

Using the tip of the blade, she managed to unscrew the casing of the code panel. When the wires sprung out from its shell, she quickly went to work. At first it was difficult as ancient- and foreign-looking scriptures marked the circuitry board, forcing her to decipher what was what and what went where. Naturally, logic told her to just follow the intricate pattern of the codes and work her way from there, wired colours be damned.

Gritting the blade between her teeth, her nimble fingers worked their magic as they flew across the circuitry board. What would take a normal human being an hour to decode an alien security system, the woman did it in thirty minutes. After much sweating and cursing, she finally cracked the codes. Then she held her breath as she waited anxiously for the green LED to light up. Inwardly, she prayed that the tampering wouldn't set the alarms off. That was the last thing she'd wanted. The next few seconds felt like forever, but when the light finally blinked, she did a mental dance of joy as she prepared to walk out of the door, hopefully undetected.

'_Okay, get out of this room, find a space pod, and hightail out of here. You can do this!'_

The door slid open and glaring ceiling lights from the hallway poured into the dimly lit room. She was anxious to leave but her eyes instantly widened with fear as she saw the side frames of the Saiyans guarding her door and mentally cursed Kakarot for sending in the guards.

Withholding a gasp, she quickly retreated back into the room and flattened herself on the corner wall few metres paralleled with the door, where she was out of their line of sight. It was too late to close the door now, and even if she wanted to, she wouldn't know how since the lock panel was practically mangled. Her fingers steadily curled around the wooden handle of the blade as she hatched a plan. She would have used her beretta first, but a more concrete plan than that was dire. It would be strategically wise to stab and immobilise the nearest one and use him as a shield, and shoot the shit out of the one behind him.

'_Oh, shit! Oh, shit!__Oh, shit! Please don't come in- I need to get outta here- but I don't wanna kill them! Oh, shit!__Oh, shit! Please don't come in!'_

The two guards felt the air shift as a gust of wind sucked past them. Instantly on alert, they whipped around to find the door they were guarding miraculously opened. And so they shared a look before glaring curiously into the room, their ki-restrainers in hand. They knew the newly acquired alien was in there, and they knew she was a weak creature. But an opened door with not a soul in plain sight set them on edge.

Motioning for his comrade to remain outside, the first guard cautiously stepped inside as his dark orbs swept through the dimly lit room looking for the woman. He has not seen her personally, so he didn't know how she looked like, but for all he knew, she could be dangerous; and who knew what alien monstrosity lies beyond this door? So long as he had a ki-restrainer in his hand, there was nothing to worry about. Or so he thought.

She watched the Saiyan crouched forward and into the room, and not even allowing him three steps into the premise, the blue-haired Earthling cried as she pounced onto the side of his person. She gripped on him tightly and aimed for his main artery on the neck with the blade. Thanks to near-perfect reflexes gained from her days of fighting in the invasion, she managed to stab once in his exposed throat, and that was all the stabbing she needed to do. Once she felt the blade scrape between his hyoid bone and larynx, she twisted her wrist, allowing the edges of the blade to mangle his throat. Not even thick chest plates could save him.

It all happened too fast. When the man sputtered, choked on his own blood, and collapsed to his knees, the woman already had her hand outstretched and her gun pointed at the remaining charging Saiyan. All she had to do was pull the gun slide, aim for the neck, and pull the trigger. But before she could even steady her aim, suddenly an arm stretched out past the door and effortlessly snatched the gun from her hand.

She yelped, and the Saiyan guard abruptly halted in his tracks.

Kakarot stood by the door frame, settling himself in between the guard and the woman. Both of the inferiors gawked at his sudden appearance. The guard slowly backed away to the side, allowing his superior to take over now. Meanwhile, the woman merely stood her ground as she gaped at Kakarot with wide, fearful eyes.

The tall Saiyan stared down at the gun in his hand with a hint of morbidity, gripping it and turning it from side to side for a good feel as he inspected it. He has never seen such a contraption before, but if memory served him well, he may have seen some of the humans using something similar back on Planet Earth, right before he incinerated them. He looked up at the woman, and lifted the gun to her head.

The Earthling gasped and shot her arms up in the air as she staggered a step backwards. She could only pray that he wouldn't figure out how to pull the slide; much less pull the trigger. But tough luck as the sweet sound of clicking metal filled the air, and time came to a standstill.

* * *

**His POV**

"_Train up a child in the way that he should go; and when he is old, he will not depart from it."_

Those were some wise words of a once glorious king that have been embedded into my very conscience the day I was old enough to mumble my first word.

There were no emotional attachments whatsoever between us, my father and I. I remember him as a ruthless, hardened warrior, and a strict and towering father. To the nation, he was their ruler; King of his people, but to me – he was the man I dreamed of becoming when I grew up. Despite embracing a kinship devoid of petty affections, my father was a man of action, results, and deep thoughts.

Of course, he thought about many things at a time. He would sit on his throne, and think about things; he would stride along the large palace hallways and think about things; he would lie in his bed wide awake, and think about things!

I never really knew what went on in his head because he never openly talked to me about them. Until that one night in his royal study, which now belongs to me, where I stumbled upon him in deep thought. He was staring out of the enormous picture window, thoughtfully taking in the sweeping views of the palace and the city's canopy.

"_Father…" I called to him softly as I approached him in my princely strides. He didn't acknowledge me at first, a habit which I picked up almost immediately because then I thought it would serve me well when I ruled._

_As an eight-year-old, I cringed at my stature as I went up against the towering form that was my father. I stood by his side and studied the hustling and bustling of the palace servants down below, and then I looked beyond the palace walls and took in the cityscape. I looked to my father with a curious mind and saw a distant expression on his face. The gleaming illuminations caused by flying space pods from afar shone on our faces and I turned back to the view before me._

_Space pods carrying Saiyans of all ages blasted from the docks, heading off to planets faraway as they commenced on their assigned purges. Sometimes I wished that was all I ever do – out there satisfying my bloodlust. I wished that I never had to train in-palace and sit in for those stupid history and political studies I was forced to. I had bigger dreams than that; I wanted to lead my own squad of Elites and rule the planet at a later age. I scowled and was about to give my father a piece of my mind but his thundering voice cut off my train of thought._

"_Vegeta," he called my name; it was a rare thing. It was always brat, boy, or blasted offspring._

_I looked up at him expectantly, and noticed that the same thoughtful expression was still marked on his face. As if only realising my presence, he stared down at me with knowing eyes._

"_One day, you will become the strongest Saiyan that ever lived; even stronger than me."_

_His somewhat humble words startled me, more so his sudden words of motivation. Taken aback, I scrambled for a reply but was lost at the tip of my tongue when he continued, "And when that time comes, all these will be yours to rule," and I turned back to the city, glaring at the furthest point and beyond the horizon._

_Then the flying pods became the core of my focus, and the longer I stared at them leaving and docking the planet, the more I understood my father's words. All these… the people, the land, the planet, and everything that they do – they would all be mine to rule when the time is right. I looked up at my father once again, and as much as my eight-year-old mind could comprehend, I knew that there was so much more I'd need to learn._

"_You are the prince of a proud warrior race, but never forget your roots, Vegeta. Nothing and no one can take that away from you except yourself," he finished and quieted as he left me to contemplate the meaning of his words. _

_Sure, he was a man of action, and also of many thoughts. And this night has granted me a glimpse into his mind as he talked about the future of the Empire._

_My future._

"_Yes, father," I complied, all prejudice against sitting in for history and political studies forgotten as I looked upon the empire which would someday become mine, "I will study and train my hardest. I will not forget your words."_

And true to mine, I haven't forgotten his words from that night till this day. Now that father was gone, the only regret I have is that I didn't learn of Frieza's treachery sooner; if only he had told me about it when he first discovered the lizard's deceit. It would have saved me plenty of time in preparation, if he had. Darn.

But then again, I have had plenty of preparation made over the years. He had trained me in the way he thought I should turn out, and had me training my subjects the same way. I stand in my study by the window, my eyes scanning the darkness of space. This expansive, infinite vacuum feels so much like a significant part of my life; being in space for the most part of my life has unconsciously made me just like that – dark, cold, and devoid of life.

I am only glad that I am not the only one.

"_Father, why do I need a bodyguard? I am of a pure and powerful bloodline; I don't need anybody watching my back!" I threw a tantrum as we walked down the aisle that led us to the royal training ground. We were going to meet and test this third class peasant child to see if he was as strong as they say. Well, he CANNOT be stronger than me. I am the prince of all Saiyans!_

"_That's beside the point, Brat! This boy could prove to be strong-" _

"_This is a waste of time. He will never be stronger than me!"_

_After those words left my lips, large, callous hands gripped my arms and shoved me into the wall. My father hoisted me up to his eye level, leaving my feet dangling in midair. He pinned me in place and glared intently at me, his coal eyes disallowing me to look anywhere else but into their darkened depths._

"_You listen, and you listen good, Boy," my father hissed in a low, grating tone. I didn't dare rebut, lest I get another beating of my life. "This is much more than just strength alone. Use your head for once; it is high time you learn why sometimes we have to do the things we don't want to do."_

_He set me down gently on my feet and strangely, very fatherly straightened my bangs and red cape. I trembled under his touch, and it wasn't because I was afraid of him. I was boiling with anger. But his next words caught me by surprise and suddenly all anger seemed to vanquish momentarily._

"_You may want to keep your enemies close, and friends be damned. But it is the ones who show potential that you have to keep closest to you. Remember this, Vegeta – train up a child in the way that he should go; and when he is old, he will not depart from it. This boy clearly shows potential and the last thing you need is a traitor like him. Instil in him fierce loyalty and integrity to the Empire, the throne, and to you. Use him, guide him, and reward him for his strength and ability. He will serve you well till his dying breath."_

I must say keeping Kakarot by my side was an ingenious idea. I was glad my father had the foresight to keep him near. If he hadn't insisted, I would have shunned that man the first chance I get.

When I first met Kakarot, I saw the same potential my father saw in him and I'd have to say I didn't quite like the idea that a third class was coming close to my power level. I recall having the urge to end his life on the training grounds that day but my father's words crept into my conscience and I immediately squashed the impulse. Forget rumours, the kid was a walking lethal machine.

I know it, I fought him. And he just gets stronger every day.

Grooming Kakarot from a bubbly, jovial kid into the cold, ruthless man he is today was a difficult feat to achieve in the beginning. The darn kid had a wailing tendency whenever I landed a punch on his face. At first I pitied him, and then I became disgusted with him. No bodyguard of mine cries like a little bitch; no matter how much I despised the idea of having one.

I remember my father storming into the training room and demanded to know what was wrong with him. I shrugged indifferently and all it took was a slam into the wall by the King to shut him up. My father then explained to him why real men don't cry in somewhat the same manner he'd reprimand me in. Whether he was awed or dumbstruck, Kakarot never wailed again after that. Sometimes I get this suspicion that he was knocked in the head far too hard.

I turned nine and he was aged seven then, a year into his servitude to me. He'd follow me everywhere, including history and political studies because if I had to suffer, he'd have to as well. Apart from that, I'd make him spar with me verbally in the day and physically after dinner when I'd beat the living shit out of him for his insolence. It always ended with me being the victor, obviously.

Sometimes I could sense his longing for his family but I would in no circumstance make it a table topic. It was no concern of mine. My schedule was tight enough to keep him away from his free time, hence limiting his chances to communicate with his kin, save for his sire that has been spotted working in the palace's science division.

Father once said Kakarot was like a baby with a mind like a sponge that absorbs whatever that is given to him. Therefore, he must be changed while it was still possible.

So I did what I had to do, even when I didn't want to do it. I kept Kakarot busy with sparring and training, and sparring and training during my free time. And I took him everywhere with me, teaching him the ruthlessness of politics, court games, mind games, and battle as we grew up. My initial motive was to brainwash and harden the third class child, and drill the fear of the throne and me into his psyche.

With time, he changed into who I wanted him to be, but at the same time, I have changed just as much. Together, we are ruthless. We make the perfect team in games of mental and physical strength. It would be a shame to lose such a potential partner.

I only hope this sudden growing detestation and irritation I have for him dwindle before I have to force my hand upon him.

* * *

_Guns don't kill people; people kill people. But when Saiyans want to kill people, they don't need a gun to do it._

"Is this how you do it?" Kakarot smirked as he pointed the gun at her, directed to the middle of her forehead, "Cock it… aim it…" then his smirk turned into a wicked leer and his eyes glint maliciously, sending chills down the woman's spine.

Her eyes were misty and she was on the verge of puking all of her stomach contents. She trembled in distress and almost violently under the pressure of the gun, which Kakarot took delight in.

"… And shoot it?" he finished, whipped his arm to the side, and pulled the trigger. A loud gunshot echoed the room and the hallway as he shot a perfect point-blank hit at the unsuspecting guard – in between the eyes.

"NO!" the woman cried as the lifeless body of the guard fell to the floor with a thud.

The woman backed herself into the nearest wall, gaping fearfully, almost regrettably at the soldier that she intended to kill. If Kakarot wasn't here, she knew she'd have killed him anyhow if only to escape. But this wasn't the case. Kakarot _didn't_ have to kill him.

Kakarot then crushed the pitiful weapon in his large palm and threw it to the side. Her eyes flew to him just as he incinerated both bodies of the guards before stepping into the room. She stared at him with frightened and alarmed eyes as he turned to study the dismantled security system. He blinked, turned back to her, and much to her surprised, grinned.

"I see you've figured out a way to unlock this door," he stated as he flashed her a knowing look, "I could've sworn the password I keyed in was a difficult one. How is it that someone with a low level of intelligence such as yourself managed to bypass it?" and smirked as he mocked her.

Which successfully riled her up; just the way he wanted it, "What?" she sputtered in disbelief, "Low. level. of. intelligence?!" she hissed as her anger at his insulting remark got the best of her, "Do you know how hard it was to decode that stupid thing! Why don't you try it?! If I wasn't this smart, I wouldn't hav-" she yelped, realising her mistake as she covered her mouth to stop herself from speaking further.

He laughed at her and smirked as he goaded, "Oh please, do finish what you were saying."

But the woman remained quiet as she glared furiously at him. She absolutely hated it when people patronised her like he did, and up till now, no one had dared outright do what he did. So she folded her arms angrily, did an eye-roll, and looked away with a huff.

"Alright… I'll finish it for you, then," he stated and moved forward. The woman whipped her head towards him, her eyes widened apprehensively.

"Judging from what you were saying, I'd think you know your basis pretty well. Think about it," he said as he approached her, "Exactly how many people would be able to get through security keypad systems on their first try?" he paused, feigned a pout, and shook his head, "Not many, I would say. A simple yet complex structure built by some of the universe's best inventors; and you, a lowly female alien from a backwater planet who had no prior knowledge of life in outer space until now, had just singlehandedly unlocked this door, _my door to be exact_. It is a feat that has deluded many professionals who had ever attempted decoding, while you made it into child's play. That's quite a skill you've got there, it is something to show for…" he analysed, walking circles around the woman as he spoke.

Kakarot's head spun with questions and suspicions. His ever-so-vigil mind slowly connected the dots; from the exact location where she was found to the time she was brought to him.

_If memory served him correctly, she was found on the grounds of Capsule Corporation, home and organisation to the human scientist, Dr. Briefs._

_So, she managed to unlock the door, which clearly proved she knew a thing or two about engineering. Maybe even more._

_She has a bossy attitude with a pole constantly stuck up her ass and a mouth that won't quit; this indicated that she held some sort of authority. Kind of reminded him of his prince._

_She has an incredibly and abnormally strong sense of self-entitlement, which definitely meant she was someone important back on her home planet._

If his assumptions were right, and the connections made any sense at all… maybe, just maybe...

He knew he could be wrong and that she wasn't who he thought she was. But at this point of time, there was only one way to find out.

He stopped right behind her and she tensed at the close proximity of his body heat. She could practically hear her heart pounding in her ears. His breath crawled all over her skin as he stooped low to lean in and whisper, "So if you weren't this smart, you wouldn't have been able to crack the codes and unlock the door. Am I right… Miss Briefs?"

* * *

**So… hope you liked Chapter 4. I like the gun part though. Very much.**

**Review, please!**


	5. Chapter 5

**97% BV.**

**Warning: Mind games and rough manhandling. If you are turned off by dominating and submissive behaviours, this is not your read.**

**PS: I have decided to do away with all first-person write-ups. They will be written in a third-person perspective from now on. **

**Do enjoy!**

* * *

"_There _is_ no profile, Vegeta."_

"_I'm aware of that. We're just not looking hard enough."_

"_It's strange, really."_

"_On the contrary, it isn't _that_ strange. We know for a fact that her father was quite the iconic scientist on Earth, he may have been even more capable compared to the fools we have onboard. He must have pulled up a strong firewall which even our technology cannot penetrate. There must be something in there worth protecting."_

"_What do you suggest we do, then?"_

"_I want more grounds on her. I want to know what she's capable of."_

"_But she's not talking."_

"_I thought I taught you better, Kakarot. There's more than one way to _make_ someone talk."_

* * *

"**The surface is getting hotter. I'll shove your head under water but I won't ever let you drown."**

**Water by Breaking Benjamin**

* * *

In the next hour, Prince Vegeta was found in his study, comfortably reclining against his sleek, black leather executive swivel chair as he waited. Such a chair was built with gold trimmings and a backrest that spanned higher than his upswept hair. The room was shrouded in multiple sinister shades of grey, what with the scenery of the empty void in the vast porthole behind him. The only illumination in the room was the glare of the ceiling spotlight that took centre stage in the middle of the room, in front of his desk. Saying this, anyone who stood beneath the light would be blinded by the sheer glare and thus would not be able to see his face.

It was a scene set up solely to intimidate.

His spanning desk faced the main entrance to his Royal Apartment, and as he settled in his personal space, he kept his glare on the door. He waited patiently, not at all minding the fact that he was masked behind a gradient of darkness. He had summoned Kakarot to bring forth the girl after having his patience run thin on the third day. He had finally had it with her uncooperative nature. To top it off, Kakarot had to add insult to injury. For some reason, that fool was turning soft when it came to Earthling; a feat that was becoming rather unbearable for a Saiyan high official.

It was unacceptable in the prince's books. He couldn't have that. It was time he intervened. To hell with Kakarot's suggestion of gaining her trust and all that bullshit. He would do this his way and he'd be damned if he allowed that clown to step all over his head.

The security panel by the double doors blinked yellow, indicating that someone on the other side was requesting entrance. Vegeta swiped a finger across the touch panel embedded in his desk and the yellow light turned green, approving access. With a firm, resounding beep, the wide doors slid open to reveal a towering Royal Advisor.

Kakarot waltzed into the room in a dignifying manner. He stopped short just as the tip of his boots touched the edge of the light, which silhouetted his large form. A pair of royal black eyes quietly observed from across the room as the scene before him unfurl. The woman in tow came forth and Kakarot gently pushed her into the spotlight.

Prince Vegeta narrowed his eyes dangerously and sneered at the disgustingly soft display. Lately, every little thing that Kakarot did annoyed him.

"My prince," Kakarot saluted in greeting but received only customary silence.

The prince watched in eerie quietness within the shadows, observing the woman from head to toe. He gauged her apprehensive and meek appearance, and the result? – He was not, in the least, amused. He briefly wondered where the spitfire wench he met on Earth had gone to.

The longer Vegeta prolonged the silence, the more intense the situation became. It didn't help that the only sounds breaking the stillness were the constant drumming of his fingers and the woman's thundering heart beats. Using his exceptional vision, Vegeta's eyes wandered back to the younger Saiyan. Although Kakarot was well hidden in the shadows just like him, he didn't miss the emotionless expression he presented whenever she looked to him for direction. He didn't miss the protective glint in his eyes either.

He scowled and his nostrils flared, quickly despising the dependency this woman has for Kakarot.

"Leave us," the prince murmured softly; too soft for the human to capture but loud enough for Kakarot. Bowing with a salute, the younger Saiyan obediently heeded without a word.

* * *

The blue-haired Earthling wished Kakarot hadn't left; she didn't think she could handle being alone with the Prince of Vegetasei. The main reason being the fact that she hardly knew what the man was capable of, much less how he looked like.

She adjusted her eyes to the volume of light melded against the darkness. Although she couldn't see him clearly, the sovereign's aura was utterly intimidating, deadly even. Her resolve had never been so violently shaken until now.

She knew that he was judging her; scrutinising her like a piece of meat. She began to fidget nervously when the silence dragged on long enough to be too heavy and awkward. Was she supposed to greet him first? What should she say? Did Saiyan royalty have a certain way in holding conversations? What if he brought her here to kill her?

Her brows knitted together at the latter and she focused on one particular spot on the floor. It was hard to see if he was in the room and harder to tell what the man's intentions were. He was just sitting there, hiding and drowning in the darkness and not breathing a word. She wasn't even sure if he was breathing at all.

She frowned deeply, her eyelids slightly hooded to keep the glaring light from penetrating through her irises. It hurt like hell and she inwardly cussed – if only she was born with night vision; that would have been great right about now.

The wheels of a chair suddenly squeaked and her eyes flew to the direction of the sound. She held her breath. A gleam flickered in the darkness and she swore it was the man's eyes. Her throat felt dry and her tongue, thick. She swallowed but it felt as if her heart has lodged itself in her airway. Even her saliva seemed to have withdrawn back into its glands.

The heels of his boots thumped against the metal flooring in a slow, dramatic pace as he walked. Although she couldn't see him, she could very well hear him. He went around the desk and stopped in front of her, just before the rim of the spotlight. She could tell that his back was leaning against the table edge, and because he was closer now, and albeit still shrouded in the shadows, she finally managed to catch a glimpse of his eyes.

They flashed for a split second and she gave a light gasp. Her blue eyes widened and her heart pulsated at the familiar, sinister glint; causing her brain to instantly shift into overdrive.

"_No. It can't be_,' she inwardly denied, her lips slightly parted to breathe in precious, recycled air as her pulse raced. '_It can't be_ him!'

Like prey versus victim, the silence before the kill radiated fiercely between them as the female glared blindly and the male observed hauntingly.

Leant against the edge of his desk and onyx eyes fixed upon the alien female, Prince Vegeta scrutinised her like a hawk would its dinner. With Kakarot gone, he was certain the piling aggravation that was present before left with him, which further confirmed that the younger Saiyan had been the cause of his earlier frustrations. He was glad that he sent him away.

Vegeta frowned and mentally grumbled at the thought of Kakarot. The idiot was adamant that this woman was the human scientist's daughter. The old man's hair was lavender while this female's was blue. Though they may not be the closest colour combination on the palette, but it was in all likelihood that the two Earthlings could be related. Perhaps it was true.

He folded his arms firmly at his diaphragm, his fingers twitching impatiently beneath his thick forearms. Somehow in the dark, she managed to find his eyes and recognition twinkled in those blue depths. He figured that she _knew_ it was him but was likely uncertain. _Perfect_. He smirked. It was time to play.

"Do you even know why you're here?" he drawled out in a quiet, deadpan tone, his voice low and throaty.

Confirming her suspicions, her heart dropped at the sound of his voice. It was the very same voice that had been playing over and over in her dreams, or rather, nightmares, ever since she boarded this blasted ship. It was the voice that she wished she never had to hear again.

"Something caught your tongue?" He taunted, eager to get a rise out of her.

Angrily, she clenched her hands into fists and breathed heavily, so much so it made her seem like she was asphyxiating. A dark winged brow rose at the display and Vegeta realised that the spitfire attitude in her was slowly returning. He smirked. He was pleased.

"Well?" he pressed and baited, "Are you dumb and deaf now, Human?"

Her body visibly shook, suppressing the anger and hate that were threatening to implode. She glared at the shadow and grumbled through gritted teeth, "No."

He pushed himself off the table and moved toward the light, but withheld just enough of himself to show her his moving feet. He was so stealthy that she hadn't even sensed him move. He encircled her like a predator as she stood rooted to the floor. He never once walked into the light but she could see the tail of his crimson cape billowing behind his calves and trailing after his strides. He suddenly appeared behind her and grabbed both sides of her arms. Startled, she gasped and yelped. She reacted and struggled, but he held her in place.

"No, _what_?" he growled behind her ear, breathing down her neck. His voice reverberated and travelled down her spine, prickling her senses and sending her chills. She stiffened, not trusting her limbs to stay still.

More furious, for being manhandled once again, than afraid, the human retaliated without thinking through, "No, I'm not dumb and deaf, and no, I don't know why the hell you brought me here!"

"That's odd," ignoring her slip of insolence, he commented in a very lax manner and a tone filled with promises of many bad things to come. He smirked at her nape, his coarse voice projecting barely a whisper, "I was led to believe you were sharp and too smart for your own good, but I'm also beginning to believe that it was all just an act."

Without warning, he spun her around to face him, his hands still gripping tightly on both her arms. He peered down at her nose, finally allowing her a clearer visual of his face. Her eyes met his and they nearly popped. Her blood ran cold and just about every part of her body ceased to function. Her heart stopped beating and her lungs caved in, but her focus remained warily fixed on his darkened eyes. The light that shone fiercely behind him was not making things better as it casted a rather intense sinister air around him, more so than the one before.

"You…" she breathed out fearfully, finally recognising him and finding her voice.

"According to my advisor, you couldn't _wait_ to meet me in person. You sound disappointed," he smirked, revealing a pearly sharp canine.

"Did your advisor also tell you that I never expected _you_ to be the prince of Vegetasei?" she quipped bluntly, her nose slightly crinkled up to show her displeasure. He was clearly the last person she was expecting to confront.

"Unfortunately, he did not," he said, and then muttered matter-of-factly, "But I expected you to be more intelligent than that. I guess I was right – you fall far beneath my expectations."

"Don't be too sure," she scoffed smugly, turning her head away to glare at him from the corner of her eyes. Somehow, she figured that she walked right into that one.

He frowned, "This will be the only time that I will ever allow someone to prove me wrong. It would be wise for you to make good use of this _one chance_," he murmured slowly into her face, inclining his head a miniscule angle as he emphasised on the last two words.

'_The better your skills are, the easier your life will be; in other words, it is wise to take this advantage to disclose your full potential.'_

Kakarot's words flashed repeatedly in her mind. She recalled the times when she had told him that she would remain silent until she met his prince. And now that she has, regret was the least of her problems. Things would have panned out differently if the prince had not been the same man as this _bastard_. But that wasn't the case.

She struggled and eventually managed to escape his horrifying intimate grasp, but only because he allowed it. Taking advantage of her temporary freedom, she backed away from the light -from him- and trudged on her heels until her back hit the edge of the desk. He lowered his hands to the side and remained still beneath the spotlight, his dark glare fixed upon her. She found it extremely difficult to pry her eyes away as she finally took in his entire form for the first time.

His pearly white armour looked smooth to the touch as it glistened against the glare, radiating a celestial glow as opposed to his dark persona. A crimson-hued symbol of some sort was emblazoned upon the left side of his breastplate near where she supposed his heart was. It was the same design which Kakarot's armour carried; the only thing that made this man stand out was the round-rimmed golden medallion with the same insignia in the centre that was hanging around his neck. She figured it was the royal crest of Vegetasei.

The prince was pretty much covered from neck to toe as there wasn't an inch of skin to be seen, save for a little part of his muscular column and his head. His arms and thighs rippled with refined muscles that seemed like they were depicted from sculpted statues of ancient Greece. Her eyes roamed all over his body, taking notice of the blood red cape that hung from his shoulder guards. It cascaded down to the curve of his calves, wavering lightly behind him with the smallest of movements.

"See something you like?" he teased playfully with smirk, eyeing her with a lecher's grin.

Her eyes flew back up and locked gazes with him. She swallowed and gripped the edges of the desk. He swiftly descended upon her and she gasped as he planted his fists on the table, trapping her in between his ripped body and the desk. Claustrophobia struck her and she cringed the moment he stooped forward and leered close to her face, naturally causing her to bend backwards.

"I believe that you have something of importance that you wanted to share with me," he stated knowingly under his breath; a brow rose in question, "Is that not why you are here?"

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear," she argued, decided to go against Kakarot's warning.

Her hands slid to his chest plate and attempted to shove him away, but he overpowered her easily. He encircled his arms around her and crushed her towards him, trapping her arms between their bodies. He tightened and loosened his hold intermittently, enjoying her weak squirms and loving every second of her softness moulding against his hardness.

"Time is of the essence and you would be wise to keep me interested while you still can."

"Is this your best approach in making me talk?" she breathed out. She chuckled incredulously and spat, "You're nothing but a coward. You are so pathetic that you have to manhandle me and bend me to your will every time to display your supremacy."

He held her gaze for a second longer and then lowered his eyes to a random spot on the table, appearing to be in deep thought. He feigned a pout, his hands sliding up and down her back.

"This is the least painful approach I could think of," he mused out loud, blinking once before looking back at her. Then without warning, he yanked her hair and pulled her head back. Veins protruded along the column of his neck as he snarled venomously into her face, "But I can always improvise!"

He spun her around and bent her down at an odd angle, pushing her face to the table. She let out a sharp cry as he grabbed her arm and twisted it as far back as it allowed. A strong hand pressed painfully on her wrist and she groaned through clenched teeth. He leaned against her back and lowered his face next to her ear.

"You're hurting me!" she cried and whimpered. The more she struggled, the more painful it was.

"You wanted to know if that was the best I could come up with and the answer is no. As far as pathetic goes, you certainly fill the part right about now. And you should _always_ be careful with what you wish for," he goaded, his lips curled into a devilish, predatory smirk, "For a man of my calibre, I can definitely fulfil all your _desires_."

She struggled against him but it was quickly becoming futile as he tightened his hold on her, imposing further pain into her arm. She was afraid, deathly frightened even, of what he might do to her. Her mind flew back to the night where he had her trapped under his clutches and her self-defence instinctively kicked in. She struggled harder. All the horrible, terrible things he did to her and made her feel that night came back to her; the pain and the bruises; his fingers on her, all over her, and in her. They bombarded her all at once and she howled.

"Let go of me!"

Prince Vegeta kept her head down and pressed his fingers lightly on her nape. His coarse voice lowered as he attempted to calm her down.

"Shhh," he hushed her, massaging her neck in an uncharacteristic manner and she eventually quieted down like a timid mouse, not even moving a muscle. Below him, the woman was confused; bewildered by his tender gesture but she maintained her suspicions and curiosity.

"Don't move, little human," he said sweetly, his voice soft and fluid and it sent tingles down her spine, "I don't want you to _accidentally_ lose an arm."

While she remained frozen beneath him, her body visibly shook under the pressure, both physically and mentally. He had made it clear to her that if she continued to struggle, she would suffer the pain and it would be _her_ fault. Her lips quivered unsteadily and she closed her eyes. He was a lunatic.

"That's better," he falsely comforted, moving his massage higher and sifting his fingers through her hair, "Now, either you tell me what was on your mind, or tell me what I want to know."

When he was met with silence, he pressed his lips into a thin line and breathed out through his nose; his patience thinning. But he kept himself somewhat in check and merely frowned before trying on an alternative.

"Tell you what; for every satisfying answer you give me, I will lessen the pain. But give me an answer that I don't like, I cannot guarantee your _loss_. Understand?"

The woman refused to respond and remained quietly still as she rode out the excruciating pain he was inflicting. Annoyed by her stubborn silence and lack of reaction, Prince Vegeta slammed his free hand on the table, startling everything on the surface. She yelped and squeezed her eyes shut.

"I am _not_ a patient man!" he hissed into her face.

"… Y-es," she managed to choke out.

Using his free hand, he pinched her cheeks together and peered closer to her face. She recoiled as he breathed harshly, "Yes, _what_?"

"Yes… I understand," she sputtered and sniffled, her voice hoarse with apprehension. Fear and dread slid up and down her spine and she shivered, visibly cringing in his grip.

"Good," he falsely commended, releasing her face. Then as if nothing just happened, he tenderly brushed away the sweaty blue tendrils that were matted against her skin and pacified, "Why don't we start over?"

He allowed her to recover and removed a little bit of the pressure on her wrist. She wouldn't realise it yet, but he knew her delicate flesh was already discoloured with bruises.

"Are you or are you not the daughter of the human scientist called Dr. Briefs?" he asked softly as his gloved fingers brushed lightly on her temple in a haunting manner, causing her hairs to stand on their ends.

"… I am," she reluctantly answered, her voice barely above a whisper. She fixed her eyes on a distant spot on the wall, trying her damnedest to disconnect herself and pretend that she wasn't helplessly pinned beneath the psychotic bastard.

"See? It isn't that hard. We're certainly making progress, Miss_ Briefs_," he emphasised on her name, mocking her. Then, in all seriousness, he pressed, "Now, where is he?"

Bulma remained silent and closed her eyes, not wanting to be reminded of her father. She escaped reality for a second and shoved the images of her dead parents to the back of her mind, only to be jolted out of it by the sheer malicious voice of the man behind her.

"I will not repeat myself, Human," he growled warningly when met with another bout of stubborn silence, his fingers giving her wrist another painful pinch.

"He's dead!" she grunted, squeezing her eyes tight and setting her jaw to endure the pain.

He smirked. Tsk-ing, he added, "I don't like liars," and twisted her wrist a little more.

"I am not lying, my father is dead!" she cried, tears of agony brimming in her eyes.

He lessened the pressure down a notch, deciding to believe her but mostly feeling morbidly satisfied that she acknowledged her kin's death.

"Alright," he drawled, keeping silent for a second or two and then uttered, "I believe you."

Bulma sagged on the table, her heart pounding in her rib cage. Her breathing pattern was frantic and her vision spun. She felt numb; detached. Whether he believed her or not, it didn't matter as she realised his words meant nothing. _Relief_ was not the appropriate word to express her sentiments. A temporary sense of false reprieve was more likely to describe whatever it was she felt – it felt like she was dancing with the devil and then playing a game of chess under the theme of '_life and death_'. Suffice to say, that feeling lasted only for a minute before the prince spoke again.

"As much as I'd like to disagree, I'm sure it isn't nice being in this position for too long. Nothing good will come out of it – _for you_. So help yourself here," he said, grinding his groin against her once just to prove a point, "Your father's profile displayed nothing about you so unless you're lying about your heritage, I don't see a reason why you were kept a secret."

"You said you believe me," she whispered brokenly, mentally drained and unable to comprehend the man any more.

"Come now, for someone in your position, there is no room to be naïve. You simply cannot afford it," he chided playfully. His fingers lightly combed her hair in an attempt to _soothe_ her before they gently wipe away the sheen of sweat that was glazed upon her forehead. His eyes lingered appreciatively on her beautiful features for a second longer before he cajoled, "You are a smart girl, I can tell. But I _cannot_ help someone who won't help themselves. Why don't you tell me what your father was trying to protect."

Bulma shut her eyes firmly, her lips pressed into a thin line. He wasn't trying to _help_ her! He was _exploiting_ her and the bastard _knew_ that she _knew_ that! She was exhausted and tired of his mind games and questions. His manhandling her wasn't even earning him brownie points and yet he demanded so much. He was a brute in every way; she wouldn't expect any more from someone like him. She remained quietly still but it was difficult considering the tone he was using on her. She hated that tone.

"It has to be something of extreme value to him, and if I knew what that _something_ was, rest assured that it'd be _just_ as valuable to me as it had him," he coaxed with a soft, throaty voice – so suave, seductive, and alluring; it was too charming for a barbarian like him. She wasn't even sure if that was possible as she felt herself tingle from its waves.

She whimpered, knowing that she was reaching her wit's end. He lowered his free hand to her thigh and rubbed it slowly up and down. His fingers slipped toward her inner thigh and she gasped, instinctively locking her knees together. He removed his hand, not minding at all that she was refusing his advances at the moment.

After all, where was the fun in taking her right there and then? She was like a tasty slab of meat on a grill, and watching it sizzle and cook till perfection would only enhance his appetite. The wait would pay off in the end.

He left her body untouched save for her wrist. He lowered his face to hers as he resumed his twisted questioning, "Something like _you_, perhaps?"

Her eyes flew open to see his face peering at an inch's distance from hers. His dark, calculating eyes analysed the dilating of her blue irises and the slight shift in her bodily reaction. He smirked, once again satisfied with the result he garnered. He didn't even need an answer to that question; he already knew.

No doubt, she was a handful but nothing at all like how his idiot of an advisor had described. She was just too easy to manipulate and decipher; too easy to break. Now that he was sure of her identity, he had to be certain that her abilities were up to par, if not, exceeded her kin.

"Let's make things a little bit more interesting. Here is where we determine your fate-"

"This is nothing but a sick, twisted game to you, isn't it, you bastard?!" she spat, deliberately cutting him off. She struggled to push him off but all that did was further angering him.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her off the table, forcing her head back to his shoulder. She cried as his other hand twisted her arm further back. He hissed beside her face, "Did I ask you a question?!"

She cringed and whimpered, by now her tears were falling freely. He pulled her head back a little more, jostling her and demanding for a response. She sniffled and sobbed, and shook her head.

He smirked, thriving in her anguish. She was definitely a fun specimen to play with it. The game was simple – allow her to think that she has control over the situation then crush her down with utter degradation only to do it all over again until she became his possession, just because he could.

It was like fishing.

The analogy was simple – you bait the fish and let it bite; you hook it and lift the rod, simultaneously reeling it in; you let it go and allow it to flow with the current, letting it think that it has a chance to escape only to tug hard at it another time. Reel it back in for good and in the end, the prize is yours.

"Then do not speak," he growled, putting extra pressure onto her bent wrist, "Make no mistake, I am not that fool, Kakarot. Your insolence will not go unpunished. You may get away from thinking that you are above him but you are nothing but an insect easily crushable beneath my bloodstained boots," he released her hair and encircled her throat in a firm hold, "And the only reason why he hasn't killed you is because I haven't given him the power to do so, and I will never _share_ that special right. The privilege of seeing you to your end belongs solely to me. Do I make myself clear or would you like another approach? For you, I can _always_ accommodate."

Fat tears rolled down her cheeks and she murmured numbly, "Crystal clear."

"Good girl," he grinned, eyes glinting with clear amusement and enlightenment, "I like that human metaphor, it's one of my personal favourites. And I also like this position better," he leered, his eyes sweeping down from her collar bone to the aerial view of her breasts. He planted a kiss on her shoulder and then stared at her side profile. He pressed his lips to her ear and whispered, "I feel closer to you."

"Prick," she uttered by reflex, but quickly clamped her mouth shut the second she realised what she had just called him.

"I won't deny you that, if that's what you want," he chuckled and she visibly tensed, "I'm almost certain it'd be thoroughly _pleasurable_… but it'd have to wait," he said playfully and then in all seriousness, "We have unfinished business.

Now, where were we before you so rudely interrupted me? Ah, yes – your _fate_," he emphasised and then offered, "I'm feeling generous, so I will give you two options. The only catch here is that you don't get to choose either option, but rather your luck will be what determines it," he explained, finally releasing her arm. He turned her around and leaned into her, bending her backward against the edge of his desk.

The heel of a palm propped on the desk to support his weight, while the other traced her jaw line with a gloved finger. Her hands raced to his chest plate in an attempt to hold him off. Needless to say he was much too strong for her so she merely settled her hands on his biceps and weakly bit her nails into his arms. His finger paused under her chin and lifted her face to his as he presented her with an ultimatum. He was about to redefine the art of manipulation.

"Depending on your answer to my next question, you will either live a fulfilling life serving my empire –in other words, _me_- and be rewarded handsomely for all your contributions," he offered. Then his expression darkened, "Or you will be thrown into my collection, or the streets, where I will see to it that you earn a pitiful living on all fours with legs spread wide open, in which you'd wish that I had ended your life instead."

A smirk then played on his lips. Somehow during his short visit on Earth, he had developed a twisted desire for this woman to be trembling beneath him; whether in the throes of passion or fear, it didn't matter.

His gaze lowered to her lips and then ventured further south to the well-sculpted groove of her collar bone, as did his finger. He licked his dry lips and looked back up.

"_Here_ is where you redefine the meaning of _making life-changing decisions_. How you will live your life from here onwards depends on your luck. For me, it's like deciding which sitting target will die next blindfolded, but for you, it is like destiny being paved out and _you_ are the sitting target; exciting, isn't it?" he leered, his smirk turning into a sinister grin, "Just remember this; one question, one answer. There will be no turning back, so the trick here is to answer _wisely_. Are you ready?"

Bulma glared at the mad man with a vengeance, her jaw set and her stomach twisted into a knot. She couldn't believe that this was the same man Kakarot had been talking about; the one who would sacrifice himself to save his people. She felt cheated of her good will. She was furious and frightened. She wanted to stand up to him, instead she was cracking within. She wanted to appear brave, but she was losing her resolve. His dark eyes pierced into hers, sucking her soul from one, penetrating glare as he drawled out the tension between them.

"Are you _just_ as capable as, if not _better_ than your father was?"

As soon as those words left his mouth, Bulma closed her eyes. One question presented her fate and one answer determined it. When would these people stop their twisted, manipulative games?

Whether he already knew about her background and capabilities, or the fact that she was indeed better than her father didn't matter anymore. He was clearly exploiting her strengths and weaknesses and twisting them to his advantage. He had pushed her to a corner and literally bent her to his will. Despite what her answer was going to be, she might as well serve herself to him on a silver platter.

"… Yes," she breathed out unsteadily. He had won this round.

'_Perfect_,' he smirked.

He felt absolutely satisfied that he had effortlessly placed her exactly where he wanted her to be. He moved forward, forcing her to slide up onto the table edge as he settled in between her legs.

"And you will serve me?" he murmured, a statement more than a question as his fingers feathered lightly up and down the curve of her spine. She shivered, clutching tightly onto his arms.

Her eyes opened and her brows stitched together. She avoided his gaze. A painful expression etched on her face as she reluctantly submitted herself to him. She sniffled, her heart ripping apart at the fact that her life and dreams would shatter no matter what answer she gave. She whispered softly, "… Yes."

He smirked again, pleased with her answer. He lifted a hand and caressed her cheek tenderly with the back of two fingers. She cringed and recoiled from his touch. She turned her head away, disgusted with him and more so, with herself.

He frowned, lowering his hand and propping it back on the desk. Leaning into her ear, he growled, "I expect obedience from you."

"My silence is as much obedience as you're going to get. My actions, however, cannot be guaranteed," she muttered adamantly under her breath as she stared sightlessly at the dark corner of the room.

His frown turned into a scowl but he allowed her insolence slip once again. He figured she would learn her place in time, and she'd submit to him once he was done with her.

"Don't you want to know the kind of reward you'd be getting just for being compliant?" he baited, though not really caring if she was interested.

"If you think you can buy me with your shady gifts, you're sorely mistaken. I have more value than that!" she spat, glaring daggers into his eyes and wishing looks could just incinerate the bastard.

He rolled his eyes, ridiculing her virtuous attitude, "To be frank, I really don't care much about your personal values. This is solely business and I pass fair judgements when my demands are met."

She narrowed her eyes. Her lips curled with disgust and she shook her head, "You speak as though you have honour, when in fact you don't."

"Only in ways that benefit me," he stated matter-of-factly, his hands resting at the arc of her waist, "Saiyan or Human, apart from strength and traditions, we're all alike. We would not sit on our asses when push comes to shove and the end is nigh, but rather go to great lengths to achieve the most basic instinct of all living things – survival. I believe it is the same for you; that when you realise that you are completely alone in this world, you would do nearly anything to stay alive. Am I right?"

His lips curled into a smirk, his eyes twinkling as if he knew it all. Angered by that infuriating grin, she remained her stance. Her fingers twitched and they clutched tighter on his arms, the urge to smack his arrogant cheek beckoned; barbaric royalty on steroids be damned.

"For someone who has never once been subjugated his entire life, you sure know plenty about survival," she hissed, feeling the flames of her spunk sputtering back to life.

Their faces were centimetres apart, hands on one another, and their voices low. It would seem as if they were sharing a deep, dark secret, engaging in an intimate lover's tryst in the lonely darkness.

"Do not mock me, Human. I know more than you think just from observing countless of pitiful captives like you. It's always the same scenario; if they weren't struggling to stay physically intact, then they'd be fighting to remain mentally sane."

Bulma kept silent as she glared at him with a new hatred simmering in the depths of her eyes. _It's always the same scenario_, he said. Her overactive mind wondered about those victims and formed brutal images of the kinds of torture he could have inflicted upon them till they wished they were dead. She imagined them begging for mercy or the easy way out. She swallowed and turned her head away the second she realised that he was already doing it to her.

Seeing her quiet and resigned, he decided to go with a softer approach. He lowered and tilted his head to her face to capture her gaze. His fingers lifted her chin so that their eyes met. He frowned, "_You_ can _change_ all that. Pledge your loyalty to me and you will be in _good_ hands."

Her eyes sparked and the muscles on her eyelid twitching agitatedly. She held his obsidian eyes with a fierce gaze and he returned her stare with a firm glower of his own. Stoic expressions and warm breaths were thrown across the space between their faces. Icy blue eyes studied the vortex that lied dormant beneath obsidian eyes as they struggled to decipher the entity to which they belonged. She swallowed and asserted determinedly, "If you mean _your_ hands, then I will not bow down to you."

His face was emotionless save for the minute twitch in his left eye. Temporarily rendered speechless by her impertinence, he asked earnestly, "Do you _not_ fear death?"

"You mean fear _you_?" she retorted fluidly with a blank expression that could rival his own.

"Is there a difference?" a playful smirk graced his lips as he leered down dangerously close to her face.

She gave a slight quiver and her thoughts wavered, anger boiling steadily in her bloodstream. With blazing blue eyes fixed upon his darkened peer, she huffed exasperatedly, "Why don't you just drop the tough guy act and tell me what you really want from me?"

"Your total subordination would be a good start," he suggested casually, straightening up and pressing his body closer to hers, "And rest assured, this is not an act. It's very real."

Her hands raced up to his chest in an attempt to push him away, but he simply grabbed her wrists, pried them off him, and locked them down on the surface of the desk.

She sighed and closed her weary eyes. Her head pounded painfully as she desperately struggled to understand, "But why?" she asked in a whisper, "You gave me options that I'm not allowed to choose and then force me to serve both your empire and you, lest suffer a punishment worse than death," she said warily, recapitulating the last 30 minutes of their meeting. Her baby blue eyes opened, brimming with unshed tears of anguish as she pleaded, "What more do you want from me?"

He frowned at her sudden lack of fire and realised that he preferred her when she wasn't this worn out. He thought perhaps he should stop being so harsh on her but quickly brushed that notion away as if it burned him; he shouldn't discriminate the level of importance among his minions simply because one of them was as exotic and amusing as this little one.

"My advisor must have missed out the part where you should never question my motives."

"Oh, no," she chuckled tiredly, leaning forward and resting her forehead against the coldness of his hard shoulder-guard, "He preached it to me like the gospel truth. He certainly didn't miss your memo."

A winged brow rose at the foreign analogy but otherwise ignored it; he was more surprised at the fact that she had leaned on him. He released her wrists and slid his hands around her torso like before, resting them on the curve of her spine. He leaned close to her neck, discreetly taking in her womanly scent.

"Then don't question me and do as I say," he whispered in a low voice, smothering her skin with his hot breath as he exhaled. She resisted the urge to moan as his fingers pressed lightly against the sore muscles of her back.

"I am a scientist, Prince Vegeta," she argued, using his title and name for the first time as she fought against the feelings he was evoking. She pulled away from his shoulder and stared squarely into his eyes, "_Questioning_ everything is what I do."

Light and dark features clashed and calm exhalation of warm breaths filled the inch-size void between their noses. Tension rose with every passing second yet it felt like time had stopped; the tensed quietness was as much tranquillity as they could get. He looked at her disinterestedly as he contemplated her statement. He deduced that perhaps he could, or should, fill her in on some of the details if he wanted to attain what he wanted from her.

"Very well," he started, shifting his features and setting his tone into a very dignified business-like manner, "In the duration of your servitude to the Saiyan Empire, you will maximise your expertise in the weaponry division for the most part, among others; and some parts where my… _involvement_ will be required," he stated with a leering smirk, and she in turn suspiciously narrowed her eyes.

Then in all seriousness, he continued with a straight face, "You are expected to build attack spacecrafts, heavy duty training material, and most importantly, weapons of mass destruction from your home world, ones that are enhanced in ability and speed to wipe out entire planets from galaxies afar with a simple press of a button," he explained carefully.

Bulma let out a tiny gasp and her eyes widened alarmingly. The gears in her brain went into overdrive as they pulled up mental images of all weapons she had seen and tested in her young life, profile after profile. He couldn't mean…

Curling the corner of his lip into a smirk as if he read her mind, he carried on with his speech, "I know for a fact that you humans consist the potential to create nuclear and atomic weapons," he paused, looking to the side with a thoughtful gaze as if he was trying to pinpoint a common memory. A second later, he looked back into her eyes and his face darkened, "Weapons that were professionally crafted and then branded specifically by Capsule Corporation, so do not even try to deny this, Earthling," he growled and then lowered his voice, "I can safely say that you already know _exactly_ what I want."

He tilted his head a miniscule angle and lifted a hand to her face. He caressed her cheek in an eerily haunting manner, his voice laden with that sinister, charming tone again, "Now, my question isn't if you _will_ or _will not_ build them for me, but rather," he paused, lowering his fingers to cup her chin and bringing her face to his, "… _can_ or _can't_ you build them at all."

His wicked gaze fixed upon her face. Her eyes darted unsteadily, searching that firm glare of his as she tried unscrambling his intentions. _What more could atomic weapons do but commit mass genocides?!_

His obsidian eyes glinted and shifted into a darker shade of black, and she briefly wondered if that was even possible. Bulma had learned the hard way that there was always a sinister story lying latent and lurking beneath those eyes, and this time they were silently telling her that she had better give him an answer that best suited his interest – _or else_. If she was useless to him, he'd kill her. If she didn't answer him, he'd kill her. If she refused him, he'd kill her. She avoided his gaze, swallowing as his hand slithered dangerously close to her neck.

"… I can," she breathed out unsteadily.

He smirked, feeling extremely pleased, "Goo-"

"But I won't do it," she cut him off determinedly. His face instantly darkened and that smirk formed into a scowl. If she thought his eyes weren't sinister before, they were utterly terrifying now. She swore those midnight irises had possibly, maybe, perhaps, flashed red for a nanosecond.

"Run that by me again," he dared, snarling through gritted teeth and baring two sharp canines.

"You heard me," she sneered angrily, ignoring but not ignorant towards his subtle threat, "Kill me if you have to or have someone else do it, but I _refuse_ to be a part of your sick ploy in destroying billions of innocent lives."

Angered, his hands moved swiftly and gripped on both her arms, jerking her up an inch off the table for second. She let out a sharp cry, gripping his forearms and sinking her nails into the fabric in a pitiful act of self-defence.

"You certainly know how to bring out the worst in me!" he stated furiously, nearly crushing her arms as he yanked her completely off the table. She shrieked as he put her down aggressively. They both stood before the desk and his fingers itched to kill. Infuriated and patience reaching its finish line, he shook her and hissed into her face, "Would you believe if I told you that I find it exceptionally _cute_ how you think you have a choice?!"

Bulma squeezed her eyes, clenching her teeth as his grip tightened. She groaned, whimpered, and sobbed as the pain tore through her flesh and struck into her bones. She clamped her teeth down on her bottom lip to suppress a wail, inadvertently causing her previous gash to burst open. Blood trickled down to her chin and the aroma of thick, heavy copper filled their noses.

He felt her shudder in his grasp, and though delighting in the pain he was inflicting upon her, he didn't want a _broken_ toy just yet; _broken_ being mentally damaged. He released a little pressure off her arms and watched her painful expression alleviate slightly. She steadied her chaotic mind as she peered at him with watery eyes. To say that anger was swirling in those blazing blue orbs was an understatement.

Without further ado and using her wrath to drive her courage, she pulled her head back and spat on his face. Vegeta did not expect such a blatant attack on her part but he barely reeled back in surprise. Instead, he merely levelled his gaze and the intensity of the situation heightened exponentially.

The warm blood-filled saliva trailed from his eye and down his cheek. Inside, the blood that had been brewing since the start of this meeting began to boil at a level of heat unquestionable. She kept up her brassy attitude and refused to back down. He scowled and his grip on her tightened even more. To her horror, he whipped her around and this time with more force, brutally slammed her head onto the table. His hand encircled her nape, pinching her flesh to hold her firmly in place.

The glass surface cracked upon impact where the side of her head collided with. She shrieked painfully as the edge of the shards punctured the delicate skin of her face. They sliced and grazed her flesh as she struggled. Instead of clutching her wrist like the last time, he simply pulled on her arm in spite of her weak struggling. He had every intention of pushing her to her body's limit, to feel a pain so ungodly that she wished she'd died.

The prince had reached his breaking point the second he ran out of patience and leniency. The audacity of spitting on his face was where he drew the line. He didn't care if he hurt her; he didn't care if she couldn't live to see the next two minutes. He pushed away his surroundings and focused on the current event unfolding, the only thing in his line of sight was the despicable, infuriating blue-haired woman whom he wished for many painful days to strike upon. Like potent venomous flowers, he smelled her fear and snarled his anger in an animalistic manner. This only encouraged him further and he continued to manhandle her even rougher.

He yanked her arm forcefully and unintentionally dislocated her shoulder. In the midst of his fury, he barely registered the popping of her joint as her bloodcurdling screams resounded off the walls. He released her neck and spread his fingers, and a bright blue ki-ball instantly zapped to life within the spaces of his palm.

* * *

Kakarot was leaning against the metal wall in the hallway of the Royal Wing when he heard glass shattering and incoherent shouting. Alarmed, he whipped his head towards the direction of Vegeta's room, feeling the energies within it rising at a rapid rate.

He frowned and apprehensively pressed a button on his scouter to track on Bulma's power level, illicitly intruding on his prince's current affair. The numbers of her vitals ran before his sight and after a few seconds, they stopped. He kept silent for awhile and held his breath, his ears struggling to pick up a sound, _any sound_, from down the hall.

Moments later, high-pitched shrieks were heard, followed by a mild explosion. His frown deepened and he turned his head away.

* * *

The expensive three-seater couch in the far end of the room lost half of its tangible value as it sat there dwelling in the flames that were burning it.

Prince Vegeta had lost his temper and nearly incinerated the Human with every intention to end her life once and for all. Rationality sat dormant in the back of his mind and had miraculously wormed its way to the forefront of his psyche. Her shrieks nearly broke his eardrums and that was when sensibility had decided to return. He blinked several times and consciously contained his anger, the unreleased ki-ball still simmering hotly in his hand.

He scowled at the blue head and without thinking, turned and propelled the energy sphere into the furthest furniture, channelling his aggression elsewhere. Growling angrily, he pressed himself up against her lithe frame and practically attached his cheek to hers.

"You _dare_ test my patience _again_ and _again_! Who the fuck do you think you are?!" he boomed, ignoring the scent of her tears and copper infiltrating his nose.

She sobbed and shook violently in response, tuning him out and merely focusing on the pain in the displacement of her shoulder.

He buried a hand in her hair and growled into her ear, "I'm going to put you in what I'd like to call a _thinking_ cell. It's like an ordinary cell and it even has its own cot, and for as long as you are in there, you are going to _lie down_, and you are going to _think_ about what is _best_ for you," his grip tightened, pulling painfully at her scalp and she whimpered, "No one denies me what I want, so bear in mind; the next time you feel a little _bolder_, remember that you _live_ by my hands, therefore you _die_ by my hands," he finished, jerking her a little and demanded a reply, "Are we _crystal clear_ on this?"

Heavy breaths intermingled within that short frame of silence. It felt like an eternity before she numbly nodded. Somewhat satisfied, the prince shoved her head away as if she burned him. He backed off from the Earthling and stared at her apathetically. He took in the extent of his damage but remained impartial about it.

He hadn't known her bones were _that_ soft; she was just weak, period. There was no other satisfying explanation! His lips curled into a disgusted sneer. He inwardly reminded himself that he was a prince and therefore subjects who daringly oppose him deserved to be put in their place, soft bones or not.

She groaned between sobs as she weakly pushed herself up from the table. She clutched her damaged arm, her beautiful features twisted into an agonising expression. He watched her slide to her knees and without a tinge of concern, turned away to walk out of the room. He stopped by the double doors and his fingers flew across the touch screen panel. He set the doors to a stationary phase, where it'd stay open with a ten-minute interval, before walking out to search for his advisor to clean up the mess he made.

He stepped past the door frame and as he was about to locate his advisor via scouter, his eyes caught sight of the tall man standing expectantly at the end of the hallway. His hands clenched into fists and he lowered his head to glare as he approached Kakarot. He was surprised to find the fool waiting for his meeting with the woman to end. It was a thought that would warrant more than just a nasty scowl.

* * *

Kakarot was bouncing harmless, tiny energy spheres off the walls out of boredom. It had been a good hour since he left Bulma alone with his superior. He wondered why he was even keeping track of the time in the first place. After Vegeta sent him away, he wandered off to the training grounds to keep himself occupied with some of the elites, but then his mind kept drifting back to the prince and the Earthling, and what was happening in that room. He told himself that it wasn't concern for her wellbeing that was putting him on tenterhooks, that he was merely curious of the outcome of the on-going meeting. But no matter how hard he tried pushing the affair out of his mind, his efforts were futile.

And that was how he ended up in the hallways of the Royal Wing, a safe hundred metres' distance from the prince's room. Contrary to his notorious intellect, Kakarot failed to foresee how his sudden overt concern over the Earthling would be the beginning of his problems.

His keen hearing picked up the sound of the Royal Apartment's sliding door opening and he stood at attention. When he'd heard the explosion, he'd thought that Bulma was done for. But her vitals were still beeping steadily on his scouter, and he had exhaled a breath of relief that she was still alive, though he wouldn't vouch that she'd be unmarred.

His superior would be walking out of the room at any second with the woman and she'd no doubt be immediately handed over to him. Much to his surprise, there was only his prince, no Earthling in tow. His brows stitched together in a ghost of a furrow and his facial muscles itched to twitch, yet his expression remained nonexistent.

Prince Vegeta's glare, however, was apparent. To top it off, the ceiling lights casted looming shadows upon his face, doing nothing but enhancing his fierce features as he strode towards Kakarot. He stopped before him, showing him his side profile as the taller man waited for orders with bated breath.

"Tend to your charge," the prince ordered, pulling on his gloves and sneering at the woman's tear and sweat stains marred on its pristine white surface. He turned to stare at Kakarot squarely in the eyes and said, "Get her fixed properly then throw her into the isolation cell for three days. Have her guarded and no more than one meal a day."

Without another word or a chance for the taller man to respond, Vegeta strode off into the direction of the command centre. Kakarot stood rooted in place for a few moments as he contemplated the severity of what he might find in the room. He turned towards it, his hearing picking up the woman's light sobs. He frowned and approached it slowly.

Upon entering the dim apartment, the aroma of burnt fabric wafted into his face. His eyes took in the charred furniture and he jotted down mental notes to have it removed once he was done with the Earthling. He ventured further into the room and noted the cobweb shape of the cracked touch screen glass on the desk; that would need fixing, too. He then lowered his eyes to the foot of the desk and found Bulma rested against the front wall of the table where the royal insignia made of gold and precious steel was embedded.

Kakarot walked towards the woman and crouched beside her, allowing his eyes to sweep over her frail figure. They skilfully analysed the extent of her injuries and once determined that all she had was a dislocated joint, a bleeding temple, and multiple ugly bruises, he released an inaudible sigh. He was relief that Vegeta hadn't damaged her completely although he inwardly questioned his monarch's lack of cruel intention; he was almost certain that this was merely an accident.

He jabbed Bulma on her good arm with a finger to get her attention. She turned her head slowly and stared at the newcomer with a teary, distant gaze. Her lips quivered at the sight of Kakarot as his presence somehow presented her with a sense of comfort. But she'd soon discover that comfort, among many other sentiments, was a scarce thing to attain in the Saiyan realm.

Her watery eyes caught his attention and he frowned even harder.

"You're one of the few to come out barely unscathed and that means _not dead_. Either you're extremely blessed with an insanely huge amount of luck or the prince is out of his mind, but I'd go with the former," he murmured. She turned her head away defiantly, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed.

"Does it hurt?" he goaded, uncaring of her emotional turmoil. He just wanted to get his job done and out of the way. Though, he was aware of his realisation of how frail and drained the humanoid seemed to be.

"Just leave me alone," she muttered irately, wishing for a hole to miraculously appear so she could crawl into it and stay there forever.

A small smirk played on his lips and he snorted, "I told you to watch your mouth but I'm sure you didn't listen."

"Shut up," she uttered softly, her voice laden with hurt.

Kakarot frowned at her insolence and stood up, "On your feet. We're going to the infirmary."

Bulma glared at him, inwardly berating the man for his insensitivity towards her injury, but she immediately dropped her gaze to his boots the second she realised that apathy was most likely one of a Saiyan's many dominant traits. She briefly wondered if her days on Vegetasei would be just as hellish and painful before Kakarot's impatience snapped her out of her self-pity reverie.

"You're not crippled waist down, so get moving," he growled agitatedly as he stood waiting by the door.

She scowled, her glower remained. She breathed a cuss and struggled to get up, using her good hand to grip tightly onto the edge of the desk as she pulled herself to her feet. Body aching all over, she trudged weakly towards the Saiyan, past the door, and out of the room. The side panel beeped as soon as Kakarot stepped out after her, indicating that the ten-minute interval was up. The sliding doors swiftly sealed the godforsaken room behind them and as they walked down and out through the shadowy halls of the Royal Wing, the Earthling silently prayed that when she woke up, all of this would just be a bad dream.

* * *

**To be honest, this version of Vegeta frightens me. But I wouldn't have him any other way. And in case you are wondering, the characters in this story develop on a slow pace. **

**10,000 words. I'm just not cut out for my 6,000-word quota. I give up trying. T_T**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Whether you despise this Vegeta or not, do review and let me know. But just know that Vegeta won't remain this way for long.**


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